Hardest Thing
by k8ebug
Summary: The Seventh Year Romance of an unlikely pair begins with a bet and a bad day. DMHG, rating will rise.
1. Chapter One

**A/N:** I am not and have never been affiliated in any way with WB, Scholastic Press, or any of the rest of it. I do not own anything but my plot, my own characters, and some of the spells and such. I'll thank you not to steal them. If you like something enough to want to use it, ask first. That should be all.... Enjoy!

**Hardest Thing**

**Chapter One**

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger wasn't paying attention in class. Since Professor Binns had opened his mouth an hour before, Hermione had doodled all over what were supposed to be her notes, broken a quill in half, and knocked her textbook off her desk. In the rear of the classroom, Seamus Finnegan raised his hand. Professor Binns paused and blinked.

"Yes, O' Flahtery?"

"It's time to go, sir," Seamus informed him, already rising from his seat.

"Eh?" Ah...then class dismissed." Professor Binns turned and floated through the wall. There was a mad rush for the door. Hermione collected her things and met Harry and Ron outside the classroom.

"Well, _I_ had a nice nap," Ron yawned. "Hermione, can I borrow your notes?"

"Nope," Hermione answered flatly.

"Aw, come on," Ron begged. "Be a sport."

"No," Hermione answered again.

"Why not?" Ron demanded.

"Because I didn't take any," Hermione said, adjusting her rucksack. Ron gaped at her.

"You didn't take any?" he repeated, staring.

"Harry, I think this hallway echoes," Hermione quipped.

"I can't believe it," Ron continued. "You've failed me, Hermione."

"Why? Am I not allowed a day off?" Hermione demanded, looking Ron squarely in the eye. Ron looked at Harry for help. "Take your own notes occasionally. If you really want to know about the Ministry Acts of 1911, read your bloody textbook!" Hermione finished.

"I'm starving," Harry said, changing the subject. "Let's go on to lunch before it disappears!"

Hermione took a step forward, but whirled around when an ink bottle slipped out of her bag, shattering on the stone floor. Glass splintered across the ink, glittering in the flickering torchlight.

"Bugger!" she exclaimed, dancing backwards. She pulled out her wand. "_Reparo! Scourgify!_" The ink vanished as its bottle became whole again. Hermione pocketed the empty bottle, making a mental note to fill it later. "Pity I can't get the ink into the bottle first," she remarked. The three friends trooped down to the Great Hall with the rest of the school for the midday meal.

"I can't believe how much homework we've got already," Ron grumbled through his sandwich. "It's only been two weeks and I'm already loaded down."

"Stop moaning," Hermione ordered, reaching for an apple. "You're beginning to sound like Myrtle."

Harry snickered. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Please pass me a sandwich," Hermione requested sweetly.

"You've already had one," Ron reminded her.

"I know," responded Hermione, "And I want another." Ron complied, staring as she polished it off.

"You think that's entertaining," Harry joked. "You ought to see yourself!"

"Oh ha," Ron replied, gulping down some pumpkin juice.

"Hey, Hermione, what do you have next? Ron and I have Divination."

"Ummm..." Hermione thought for a moment. "Arithmancy."

"Don't forget that Hagrid invited us for tea this afternoon," Harry reminded her. "Four o'clock."

"Shall we meet outside?" Hermione inquired, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin.

Harry nodded in reply.

"Great," Hermione said, standing up. "Then I'm off." And she left. Harry and Ron watched her go.

"Something's weird with her today," Ron remarked.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He gazed speculatively around the noisy room. His eyes fell upon the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy and his friends were having a raucous laugh about something. Malfoy caught Harry's eye and sneered. Harry looked at Ron. "I wonder what they're up to," he said, jerking his head at them.

"Who cares?" Ron shrugged. "Listen, d'you think Trelawney'll believe me if I tell her that you can tell fortunes with Doxy droppings? Fred and George were experimenting once over the summer...." The two were soon lost in conversation.

............

Hermione waited patiently for class to end. Although her notes were unusually incomplete, she had managed to pay attention to the lesson and finished her classwork before everyone else. Five minutes... four... three... She wanted to stop in the library before meeting Harry and Ron. Two minutes... one...

"Class dismissed."

Hermione swept her belongings into her bag before Professor Vector had finished speaking. She shot out the door and dodging other students along the way, reached the sanctuary of the school library in record time. She scanned the shelves quickly for a comprehensive guide to Ministry Acts, feeling guilty for not having taken notes. She found nothing immediately and decided to search again more thoroughly when she had more time. Hermione ducked back into the bustling hallway.

On the second floor, Hermione slowed her pace, walking mechanically without personal attention to her path. People passed her on both sides, talking and laughing, tones cheerful at the prospect of an easy afternoon. Hermione had nearly reached the Marble Staircase when someone slid a well-toned arm about her neck. Stunned, she looked up into Draco Malfoy's silvery eyes.

"Hello, Granger," he said casually, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Hermione froze, arms rigid by her sides. She stared, horror-stricken, as Malfoy stepped away from her as if nothing had happened. Around her, other students who had stopped to watch broke into whispers and laughter. Hermione continued to stare, bringing a hand to her stinging lips as she did so.

............

Draco Malfoy was excessively pleased with himself. He'd won the bet _and_ given himself an unexpected bit of pleasure.... kissing a very stunned Hermione Granger. Of course, word of it would soon reach his father, but Mudblood baiting was a reasonable excuse for nearly everything he did. Getting a couple of laughs in the meantime was more than worth it.

"Hey, Draco," Pansy Parkinson said, attempting to be cute. She moved purposely into his path, twirling her hair around a finger. _She looks like a Pug-Afghan mix_, Malfoy thought. _A real bitch_. He smiled to himself.

"Parkinson," he answered.

"What are you doing later? We could... get together..." She looked at him suggestively. Malfoy cringed inwardly.

"I'll be quite busy, I'm sure." Pansy looked a bit taken aback, but quickly recovered. A bit of a sneer entered her voice.

"How's the bet going?"

Malfoy smiled calmly. "I'm on my way to collect."

Pansy's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious... You actually kissed her? A Mudblood?"

"You catch on quickly," Malfoy replied smoothly. "Now if you'll excuse me." He brushed past Pansy and continued down the hall.

Pansy hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction. She had to find Millicent! _And_, she thought,_ I won't let Draco kiss me until he's used a good, strong mouthwash_.

Malfoy ducked beneath a dusty tapestry, climbing a set of dark, cobwebby stairs. At the top of the stairs he came to a door, but the clean handle betrayed its unused look. He burst through the door, entering a dimly lit room where several boys sat drinking. When the door banged open, they all jumped, trying clumsily to conceal a large bottle of firewhisky.

"Shit, Malfoy!" Blaise Zabini cried, taking out the bottle again. "Thought you were Filch."

"Didn't expect me so soon?" Malfoy drawled. "Come on, Zabini, fork over."

"No way you've done it already!"

"On the second floor with plenty of witnesses," Malfoy replied. "Come on." Blaise paused.

"I'll triple the spoils if you do it again," he offered, eyes glittering. Malfoy thought for a moment. What had he to lose?

"Done."

"Do you want some?" slurred Vincent Crabbe from a corner, gesturing to Blaise's bottle.

"No." Malfoy turned on his heel and strode from the room, already planning his next move.

............

Hermione sat with Hagrid, Ron, and Harry, sipping tea and pretending to listen to their conversation. Her hand shook as she raised her cup to her lips, sloshing tea up the sides of the vessel.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, peering at her over his steaming teacup.

"Yes," Hermione replied automatically. "Fine." Harry raised an eyebrow, but dropped the subject.

"How's Olympe, Hagrid?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Fine, Hermione." Hagrid looked puzzled. "Ron jus' asked."

"Sorry," Hermione sighed apologetically. "Long day."

"'Ave yeh got loads of homework?" Hagrid inquired with a wink at Ron.

"Yes," Hermione answered quickly. "And rightly so! N. E. W. T. s are this year. We all need the extra practise."

"I'll have _no_ time for Quidditch," Ron complained. "Especially if I don't have any notes to work from..."

"And whose fault is that?" Hermione asked, getting irritated. Ron grumbled something under his breath.

"Look at the time!" Hagrid exclaimed suddenly. "Don't mean ter be rude, but I have to feed the Erumpent."

"That's all right. Ron needs as much time as possible to finish his homework," Hermione said severely. Ron scowled.

"Thanks for the tea, Hagrid," Harry said, standing. "Bye, Fang," The large hound looked droopily up from his bed in the corner. They followed Hagrid out of the hut and walked back to the castle.

............

Back in the castle, Hermione rushed through the halls, ignoring the whispers, stares, and giggles that followed her. Harry and Ron hastened to keep up, observing the effect that Hermione's presence made on the students that she passed. They glanced at each other. What was she not telling them? At the entrance to the Head Girl's quarters, Hermione stopped and waited for her friends, rocking backwards and forwards on her toes.

"I have some really important work to do," she said in a rush, "And I need to be alone."

"That's fine," Harry replied. Hermione turned to go, wand raised to unlock her door. Ron opened his mouth.

"Hey, Hermione, why-"

Harry jabbed him in the ribs, shutting him up.

"Why what?" Hermione's heart beat faster.

"Um, never mind," on said lamely, glancing at Harry. "See you later."

Hermione watched her friends walk down the hall, joking and laughing. They'd hear about it soon enough. She turned back to the ornately carved wooden door. Pressing the tip of her wand to the centre of the pattern on the door, Hermione thought very hard about Crookshanks, her ginger tomcat. The door sprang open and Hermione stepped inside her rooms, grateful to be alone.

She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying that humiliating moment in the hallway. She recalled the look of amusement in Malfoy's silver-grey eyes and the sweep of blonde hair that curved around his pale face. She remembered all too clearly how delicious he smelled – spicy and sweet and exotic. Then she remembered exactly how his lips felt against her own, and her stomach did a backflip. What had he been doing? Draco Malfoy did not just walk up to Muggle-born girls he'd tormented for six years and kiss them. It had to be some sort of set-up.

............

Hermione visited the Gryffindor Common Room before going down the dinner. When she entered the room, everyone fell silent and stared at her. The entire seventh year sat together in the middle of the room. Hermione stepped self-consciously towards them, but Harry stood up and she stopped.

"When were you planning to say something?" he inquired calmly. She met his eyes helplessly.

"I figured you'd hear about it-"

"Yeah, we heard all right....about fifteen different versions!" Ron bellowed furiously, interrupting her. He rose from his chair. "Kissing Draco Malfoy? That's disgusting, Hermione!"

Hermione flushed. "You act like I threw myself at him!" she cried angrily.

"That's exactly the way half of the stories put it," Ron shot back. Neville Longbottom stood up and placed a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Calm down!" he admonished. "I think we should hear Hermione's side of it. We all know that stories have a tendency to be blown out of proportion around here." Ron looked somewhat abashed. Hermione looked gratefully at Neville.

"I was walking in the second floor corridor on my way to Hagrid's when Malfoy grabbed me and kissed me. That's all! I had absolutely no say in the matter. I didn't tell you right away because I hadn't figured it out myself yet, for one thing, and for another, because I knew you'd try to curse him into next year!"

"That's a lot less than he deserves," piped Lavender from her seat. "What exactly is he playing at?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Tell me about it!" Hermione cried. "After all, _I'm_ the one who has the most right to be offended. Look, could we continue this elsewhere?" She looked pointedly at Harry and Ron.

"Well," said Ginny Weasley, looking up from the game of chess she'd been playing with Colin Creevey. "The real thing sure isn't as exciting as the stories. I think I prefer them, actually." She looked impishly at Hermione. "The thought of Malfoy jumping you in the hallway and ravishing you in front of everyone sounded quite interesting."

Hermione gave a little shriek and flamed redder than ever.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, moving towards the door. "Let's go." Ron followed them into the hallway. Two Ravenclaw girls passed them on a staircase, giggling when they saw Hermione.

"Clear off," Ron growled, startling them.

"Ron, don't," Hermione said plaintively. "You'll make it worse." Harry led them into an empty classroom and shut the door.

"I'm assuming," he said, "That you don't want Ron or me to deal with this and would rather hex his balls off yourself."

Hermione nodded.

"I think you've already picked up on the embellished gossip bit," he continued.

Hermione flushed and nodded again.

"Then there isn't much we can do. It'll blow over soon...until then, it's probably best just to keep a low profile. You've done that before."

"Except that Rita Skeeter made it up, and this happened for real," Hermione pointed out.

"I wish you'd let me have a go at him, Hermione," Ron grumbled.

"I have to deal with this myself," Hermione said firmly. "I think I'd like to eat in my rooms tonight, though."

"We'll bring you something later, if you like," Harry offered.

Hermione thanked him. With a small smile at Ron, she departed, thankfully meeting no one on her return to her room.

............

Hermione had finished her essay on the benefits of peace pacts with half-human races (not due until the following week) in addition to her regular homework by the time Ron and Harry arrived again. She answered her friends' knock, shaking out her cramping hand as she greeted them. Harry and Ron declined the invitation to come in, but informed her that Dumbledore had announced cheerfully that public displays of affection were not permitted in the halls. Hermione thanked them and said good night.

One of the boys, probably Harry, had remembered Crookshanks and wrapped a bit of chicken up in a piece of parchment. The cat devoured it eagerly as Hermione munched a couple of rolls and a slice of ham. An apple later, Hermione was ready to sleep.

............

Malfoy was very pleased. The entire school was buzzing with wild rumours. There would be no question in Zabini's mind...he had definitely kissed Hermione Granger. And enjoyed it, too, although Blaise would never know that.

He'd watched from a doorway on the second floor as Hermione walked down the hallway. He'd crept up behind her, ignoring the strange looks given by passers-by. Then, he'd grabbed her and stared into her gleaming brown eyes, wide with shock. And finally he'd kissed her, noting with satisfaction her soft lips, unprepared for his touch. Malfoy had a strong suspicion that it had been her first kiss, too.

He smiled to himself. He would have done it again for free. Instead, he'd reap triple the benefits for capturing her mouth again, touching her soft brown hair and smelling the delicate floral perfume she wore. She'd certainly grown a lot since her first year at Hogwarts. Her slender figure was attractive and feminine, and although her hair still hinted at bushiness, Malfoy found it endearing. He wondered briefly how she'd feel pressed against him...

And quickly squished the thought. This was a no-emotion job. Besides, his father would throw an absolute fit. At any moment, an owl would arrive with an angry message demanding to know what was going on. Malfoy smirked. It was only too easy to lie, just as he'd been taught, literally at his mother's knee.

He rolled over on his bed and stared blankly into space. Slowly sleep crept over him. His dreams were dark.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Hermione woke late and, glancing at her watch, discovered that she'd missed breakfast. She scrambled into her robes from the previous day and grabbed her rucksack, snatching textbooks from her desk. Hermione raced through the halls, making it to Transfiguration just in time. Per usual she performed brilliantly in class, but Professor McGonagall called Hermione to her desk as the other students filed from the room.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said seriously.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked apprehensively. To her immense surprise, Professor McGonagall smiled.

"Miss Granger, I can't tell you how pleased I am that you've done so well in my class. In fact, I believe that you could take your N. E. W. T. s this instant and pass with flying colours, but that, of course, is strictly off the record."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Professor."

"I would also like you to know that if you have any problems with another student here at Hogwarts, you may inform me and you will receive help immediately." She looked Hermione straight in the eye, expression serious. "I trust that you understand me."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you," Hermione answered, just as seriously.

"That is all. You may go, Miss Granger." With a polite goodbye, Hermione left the classroom and legged it through the castle towards her rooms. To avoid excess glances and whispering, she chose a rather deserted corridor and slowed to catch her breath.

She didn't notice Malfoy until he was pushing her into the wall, his face moving closer to hers. Hermione's mind raced. She was trapped! She struggled, trying to push him away, but he outmatched her, pressing her hard against the stone. She couldn't have reached her wand anyway, but it didn't help that Malfoy held her wand hand either. She felt a sudden weight in her pocket. Wrenching a hand away from Malfoy's grip she reached into her pocket and produced her ink bottle from the day before. Malfoy's lips parted, mere inches from her own. Hermione gripped the bottle tightly and brought it down on Malfoy's head, shattering it. He leapt backwards.

"Damn it, Granger!" he cried. Blood trickled from a cut beneath his hair.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded angrily. She snatched out her wand and pointed it at him. "Get away from me!"

Malfoy backed away, eyeing the tip of her wand. "Point that thing somewhere else!" he snapped.

"Not until you tell me what you're playing at," Hermione said firmly, her angry eyes locked with his sneering ones.

"Do you really want to know?" Malfoy asked tauntingly.

"Yes," Hermione answered, unwavering.

"I have a little bet going," Malfoy sneered. He felt a tiny twinge of regret as he saw a touch of pain come into her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice shook.

"Get out of my sight. Don't ever touch me again."

"Like I'd want to," Malfoy sniffed. A lie.

"And Malfoy," Hermione spat as he walked away, "Fifty points from Slytherin for humiliation and sexual harassment of another Hogwarts student." She waited until he'd rounded a corner before she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Her break was nearly over and she _still_ needed her Herbology equipment.

Hermione stormed into her room and changed into clean robes. She snatched up her gloves and hurried out to the greenhouses, meeting Harry and Ron on the way there.

"He tried it again," Hermione informed her friends in an undertone. Ron yelped. "Shh! I beat him off with an ink bottle. He'll have a little scar, I think, to commemorate the occasion." Harry grinned. Ron still looked furious. Harry's smile faded as she continued. "He says he's doing it for a bet," Hermione told them.

"Oh, Hermione, that's awful!" Harry exclaimed.

"Despicable," agreed Ron. "Let me at him, Hermione."

"No," Hermione insisted. "I'll deal with it myself."

By this time, they'd joined the others in front of the greenhouses. Once everyone had assembled, Professor Sprout announced that they'd be working in the second greenhouse. Tables of domestic-looking snapdragons had been set up inside. Ernie Macmillan put his hand out to touch one.

"My mum has these in the garden," he said.

"Don't!" cried Neville, knocking his hand away. A spurt of flame shot through the air where Ernie's fingers had been a moment before. Ernie looked shocked. "They're poisonous too. And they bite," Neville warned. There was a sudden bustle as everyone hurried to slip on their gloves.

"Very good, Mr. Longbottom!" Professor Sprout cried cheerfully. "Ten points to Gryffindor!" Neville blushed. "Now you'll be re-potting these by colour today, chaps. It's almost like herds. You'll want to put on your gloves today, too, as I see most of you have. I did wonder if anyone would be bitten today. Pots are on your right, soil to the left. Have at it!"

Class passed uneventfully. Every snapdragon had been potted and all equipment put away by the time class was dismissed. Neville spent his last few moments of class stroking a particularly friendly blossom of the pink variety.

Next came double Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. Hermione squared her shoulders and straightened, ready to face them. With Harry and Ron beside her, she crossed the grounds to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid eyed her seriously when she arrived.

"D'you wan' me ter set the Erumpent on 'im?" he asked, only half joking. Hermione shook her head and smiled reassuringly at her friend.

"No thanks, Hagrid. I can handle it."

Hagrid laughed. "I know that look."

Gradually, the other students trickled in, collecting by Hagrid's garden.

"Right you lot. We're visitin' the Erumpent this mornin'. Jus' follow the path here an' we'll be there in no time." He gestured to a stone-lined path leading into the forest. "Follow me." Hagrid was quickly out of sight. The students followed apprehensively, Hermione noting with satisfaction the highly uncomfortable look on Malfoy's face. Feeling her eyes on him, Malfoy caught her eye and sneered. He'd obviously been to the Hospital Wing as there was no blood left anywhere on him and he showed no sign of pain. In fact, he looked just as immaculate as ever. Hermione met his gaze calmly, challenging him to try anything. Malfoy looked away first. Hermione sniffed and stepped onto the shaded path, following Lavender and Parvati to the Erumpent's enclosure.

"Right," Hagrid began. "The Erumpent here seems to be havin' a good mornin'. Yeh can all see his tail swishin'." The Erumpent snorted, causing several people to jump. Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy hung back, fondling a couple of fist-sized rocks. Hagrid must have noticed because his next words were a warning against startling the immense animal.

"S' what yeh migh' call detrimental to yer 'ealth," he explained.

"Ooh, four syllables," Malfoy snickered in an undertone. Hermione clenched her fist. Harry nudged her.

"Relax," he whispered. "Just ignore him."

"The Hogwarts Head Boy shouldn't act like that," Hermione whispered back.

"He's a _Malfoy_," Harry reminded her.

"But he's a terrible role model and he doesn't deserve the privilege."

"He's really smart, Hermione, second only to you. I hate to admit it, but he's really worked hard."

Hermione looked thoughtfully at Harry. "You know," she said, "You've really grown up." Harry grinned at her.

By this time, Hagrid was rambling on about how one could identify a pregnant Erumpent.

"You can see the whites of their eyes turn a bit pink…"

…………

Malfoy rolled his eyes and looked away from the Erumpent pen. He'd had enough. If he really wanted to know about pregnant Erumpents, he could read his textbook for the seventy-third time. He stared around at the immense trees, sunlight filtering through their leaves. Soon, the leaves would colour and fall, leaving only skeletons behind.

Crabbe and Goyle grunted to one another, bringing Malfoy back to class as it ended. Hagrid led them all back to his shabby-looking hut. As everyone began moving up to the castle, Malfoy watched as Hermione hung back, speaking to Hagrid.

"Are you sure that that fence is sturdy enough?" she asked. "If the Erumpent charged at someone, it would be only too easy to knock over. A pile of sticks won't be any good!"

"Erumpents don' like fences," Hagrid explained. "They'll stay away.

"They?" Malfoy heard Hermione ask.

"I got another one fer a short time. Thought yeh might get ter see some babies."

"But breeding Erumpents is really dangerous!" Hermione gasped. Malfoy couldn't help but privately agree.

"I can 'andle 'em," Hagrid assured her with a wink. Hermione looked worried but smiled just the same.

"I better go," she said apologetically. "I have lots of work to do." As she turned away from Hagrid, she caught sight a Malfoy and eyed him coldly before beginning her walk across the grounds. Malfoy stayed behind, watching her graceful movement.

Hermione's hair hung down her back in waves, gleaming auburn in the sunlight. Her robes suited her, Malfoy decided. They clung to all the right places without being tight or revealing and the black set off her ivory skin. On his left, Hagrid cleared his throat forcefully. Malfoy looked up.

"Keep yer eyes t' yerself," Hagrid growled. "Or yeh migh' find that fences won't hold Erumpents in so well."

"Is that a threat?" sneered Malfoy. Hagrid's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms.

"An' what'll yeh do if it is? Call yer dad?"

Malfoy didn't have an answer. Instead, he spun round and stalked away across the grounds, choosing a path that took him far from Hermione Granger. A mossy spot of ground beneath a gnarled silver oak provided him a temporary sanctuary. He sat in a fluid, cat-like motion, leaning comfortably against the tree. _Life's little pleasures_.

He'd tried without success to fulfil the requirements of the second bet. All he had to show for his trouble was a tiny, raised scar above his hairline. Mudblood Granger, always overreacting…it was just a kiss! Other girls fell all over themselves to impress him, but not Granger. That unnerved him. Malfoy had never had to work for a girl's affection before. Not that it was Hermione's affection he wanted.

Perhaps, he thought, the best course of action would be to take none at all. The answer might fall into his lap, as unlikely as it seemed, and save him the trouble of finding it alone. Why do anything for himself that the universe would do for him? With that, Draco Malfoy settled back to enjoy his afternoon.

…………

Hermione sat in front of a blank piece of parchment, trying to begin another essay for History of Magic class. Instead of collecting her thoughts about the Ministry of Magic, she was thinking about Draco Malfoy and how he'd sneered at her. _I have a little bet going_, he'd said. It made her furious to think of it, the Slytherins all having a good laugh about Mudblood Granger. That's all she was to them, she thought miserably: Mudblood know-it-all Granger.

_Stop it_, commanded part of her mind. _You're feeling sorry for yourself. You have your friends_.

_Yes_, replied another part, _but you saw how willing they were to believe that you threw yourself at him…_

_Stop it!_ cried her mind again. _It was the idea of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin kissing that shocked them-_

_Of course it was_, smirked the other half indulgently. Hermione sighed. She was getting nowhere. She wondered why it hurt so much to be used as the butt of a bet by Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies. It wasn't as if she were unfamiliar with his nastiness. After all, six years of it ought to have toughened her a bit. All the same, she felt a pang in the pit of her stomach as she recalled in perfect detail the disdainful tone in which Malfoy spoke to her and the sneer that crossed his face every time he looked her way.

Hermione shoved the parchment away. The paper wasn't due for days. What need had she to write it now? She scratched Crookshanks behind the ears and left her rooms, headed for the ground floor. She walked purposefully out of the castle and out onto the lawns, lit now by a slowly sinking sun. Hermione wandered across the grass, taking no particular direction. She moved around a corner of the castle, under an archway, and past an ivy-covered wall to stand upon a small hill.

The sun gleamed a brilliant orange, tinting the mountain-like clouds with pink and red. She watched as it moved steadily towards the horizon, disappearing over the tops of the trees. Behind her, stars began to emerge in the sky, accompanied by a half-moon. Taking a deep breath, she faced the castle once more. The towering stone walls gleamed in the fading light. It was time for her to head back. As she reached the stone steps leading to the castle doors, she heard footsteps behind her. Hermione turned to find Draco Malfoy walking a few feet behind her.

"Granger," he said curtly. She could smell his cologne from where she stood. Hermione turned away quickly, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she said, and walked away.

…………

That's what he got for trying to start a conversation, Malfoy thought, staring after Hermione. He oughtn't to blame her, he supposed. He would probably do the same thing, were he in her position. It wasn't quite fair, he thought with a twinge, to be using her in such a way. She was Muggle-born, but there were other ways of getting what he wanted. Malfoy shook himself. His time alone beneath the oak must have done something to his head. Determined to think no more of it, he headed into the castle and down into the dungeons.

On his way to the Slytherin Common Room, Malfoy passed Professor Severus Snape. As they passed, Professor Snape paused, then turned.

"Malfoy." Malfoy stopped and spun round on his heel, standing tall.

"Professor Snape," he greeted the older man.

"Malfoy, I'm not entirely sure your actions of late have been exactly appropriate. You may wish to…restrain yourself in future. I hear from Madam Pomfrey that you visited her today for a glass wound?"

"Yes, Sir," Malfoy answered.

"Nothing serious, I trust?"

"No, Sir."

Professor Snape studied his student calculatingly. From the colour tinting Draco Malfoy's cheeks, he supposed it had something to do with the Granger girl. He chose not to probe further.

"I will see you in class tomorrow, then. Good evening, Mr. Malfoy."

"Good evening," Malfoy answered. He was sure that Snape suspected something, but was reluctant to divulge any details. He knew his father would be asking questions soon, and Snape was bound to answer in truth. He found the Slytherin Commons entrance and spoke the password quietly. The wall slid back to reveal a dank room tinted green by the smouldering remains of a fire on the hearth. Venomous looking students in small groups talked amongst themselves, looking Malfoy up and down as he entered the room. He knew what they were discussing. Malfoy decided to let them talk. They'd know the truth soon enough. Walking through the room, he found Crabbe and Goyle without trouble. They were drunk, as usual.

"Malfoy," grunted Goyle, looking at him without focus. "Where've you been?"

"Out," Malfoy answered shortly. "Did you find what I requested?"

"No," answered Goyle, rocking backwards in his chair with an intoxicated smirk. "I was busy."

"Yep," agreed Crabbe. "Busy."

"Did you get her yet?" inquired Blaise Zabini, coming up beside Malfoy. He grinned unpleasantly.

"No," Malfoy answered. "Not that it's your business."

"Of _course_ it's my business," replied Blaise, spreading his arms apart. "It's _my_ bet!" he laughed nastily. Malfoy turned and stalked away, abandoning the damp Common Room for the draughty dungeon corridors beyond. He walked quickly away from the dungeons and up the Marble Staircase, headed for the Head Boy's quarters. Pansy Parkinson accosted him on the third floor.

"Draco! What a pleasant surprise." Her smile looked more like a grimace.

"Parkinson," Malfoy answered, feeling repulsed. Pansy tugged the front of her robes, attempting to entice his eyes downward. Malfoy kept his eyes focused on a point above her head.

"What are you doing after dinner?" she wanted to know, moving closer. She smelled of mildew, Malfoy noted with distaste. He wrinkled his nose.

"Working," he answered. "Alone."

"What then?" Pansy persisted.

"Sleeping," Malfoy answered stubbornly. "_Alone_." He emphasised the word. Pansy seemed to get the point and excused herself, looking miffed. Malfoy breathed an inward sigh of relief. That had been easy. He continued to his rooms, and pressing his wand against the centre of his door, thought hard about his eagle owl, Archimedes. The door sprang open and Malfoy stepped inside, leaning back against the door as he closed it. Now this he enjoyed.

His rooms were coloured all in green, silver, and black. The high windows were draped in emerald velvet. The fading sunlight fell over his mahogany furnishings, making them gleam. He snapped his fingers, lighting lamps along the wall. A fire sprang up on the hearth, casting a warm glow over everything. Malfoy entered his bedroom and slipped off his shoes. He lay back on his bed and relaxed for a moment before sitting up again. It was nearly dinner time. He stood and brushed his robes carefully, smoothing a crease from the front of them. Malfoy moved back into the outer room and sat before the fire, watching it burn before venturing into the corridor.

Ahead of him, he saw Hermione disappear around a corner. He slipped down the hall and peered after her, taking care to move silently. She had no idea she was being observed. She looked to either side, then behind her. Malfoy ducked out of sight behind a statue. When he looked again, she was skipping a little, swinging her arms, obviously pleased about something. Malfoy smile to himself. It was something he would never do, skipping. It wasn't proper behaviour for a Malfoy, and having never partaken of the activity, Malfoy didn't miss it. Once Malfoy had followed Hermione to the fourth floor, he chose a different direction and took an alternate route to dinner. It wouldn't do to be caught trailing after her, and somebody was bound to notice.

…………

Hermione lay in bed, thinking. Her eyes were closed but she was still far from anything related to REM. The day before had been admittedly disturbing…. scribbling on her notes? Dropping books? And, she thought uncomfortably, being kissed by Malfoy? _And today, even_, she thought. _Maybe Mercury is in retrograde_. She was sure that Professor Trelawney could come up with something to explain her weird behaviour. She rolled over. Malfoy was only in the next room. Hermione was grateful that she hadn't run into him after dinner. _That would have been great. "Gee Malfoy, how's your head?" or "Hello, Malfoy. I know a great glass-removing charm you should learn." That'd work_.

We'll have to work something out before the end of the week, though, she continued, _else midnight rounds will be very uncomfortable_. It was part of the duties of the Head Boy and Girl to help the teachers with their rounds. Hermione remembered more than one occasion on which she had dodged a teacher in the middle of the night. She hoped that her rounds with Malfoy would stay uneventful. Hermione tossed and turned for another hour before finally drifting into slumber. She woke up on time the next morning, and began her day hoping that things might have returned to normal.

............

**A/N:** I'm glad you like this one! Were you surprised by Hermione's reaction? Don't worry... she'll come round. :0) If you notice typos, it would help me out if you'd mention them in your review. I think I uploaded the wrong version of a chapter in one of my stories, the un-edited instead of the properly beta-d. Oops.

Heh heh heh... **Syanna**, what do _you_ think is wrong with Hermione? Besides the fact that she hit Draco over the head with a bottle instead of going "Yes please more" like any sane person would do. :-) That's another thing...I get to start calling him Draco soon, and we know what that means...

Have an quintuple fab day!


	3. Chapter Three

Hardest Thing

Chapter Three

The first thing Malfoy did when he woke up was dress. The second thing he did was reach for his broomstick. The third thing he did was fling open the window and sail out into the cool clear morning just as the sun began to rise over the grounds of Hogwarts. Pale blue mist clung to the top of the Dark Forest, rising slowly with the breeze. Malfoy soared over the lake, revelling in the feel of air brushing across his face. The wind caught his hair, tumbling it around his face.

He pointed his broomstick towards the ground, falling towards the dew-soaked grass. He pulled the nose of his broom upward just before it hit the ground and skimmed the grass with the toes of his boots. Bending low over his broomstick, Malfoy shot towards the Quidditch pitch. Wind whistled in his ears. The sensation of flying was delicious. He dipped and swerved and rolled in the air, performing a sort of athletic dance in the sky. He had no idea he was being watched.

…………

Hermione stood at her window, watching Malfoy fly. He dove towards the ground, ending in a sort of loop that sent him out across the lake. Malfoy did a barrel roll, holding tight to his broomstick, and went straight from that into a complicated-looking corkscrew twist high in the sky. It was amazing, Hermione thought. She had never been good at flying. At the best of times she tolerated it. Her stomach always felt like it would drop right out her feet whenever she even considered doing such a breathtaking dive, like the one Malfoy was doing now.

Hermione smiled to herself, and then gasped as she watched Malfoy shift on his broom until he was crouching on it, feet balanced carefully on the handle. He glided over the ground just above the grass and ever so slowly raised himself to his feet. It looked, Hermione decided, just like surfing, except more dangerous and on a stick instead of a board. The jubilant expression on the blonde boy's face when he dropped from his broom onto the grass was transforming. As Malfoy recovered his broom and shot back towards the castle, Hermione stepped away from her window, lest he see that she'd been watching.

As she showered and dressed for breakfast, Hermione contemplated what she'd just witnessed. She wondered what Malfoy would say if he knew that she'd seen him, and seen the look of pride that crossed his face before he returned to the castle. When she stepped out of her room, Hermione came face to face with Malfoy in the hallway. She caught her breath when their eyes met and held his gaze for a short moment.

"Good morning," she greeted him coolly, and turned away, headed for the library.

…………

Still exhilarated from his morning flight, Malfoy watched Hermione go. Her hair was still slightly damp, he noticed, and the air was scented faintly with shampoo. He smiled to himself. It was oddly intimate. He still hadn't decided what to do about the bet, however, and the problem perturbed him throughout his walk down to the Great Hall. There were few students inside the hall, eating together in small groups and speaking in hushed, tired morning voices. Malfoy slid into a seat at the empty Slytherin table; most of them wouldn't arrive for another hour or so. He ate slowly, contemplating his dilemma.

He'd have to catch her unawares, he decided, and certainly at a time when Potter and Weasley were nowhere to be found. And no bottles anywhere in the vicinity, that was for sure. She was capable of taking care of herself. Somehow, the idea of jumping her somewhere and tying her up seemed wrong. It wasn't a fair way to do it. If he wanted to win the bet, he'd have to do it in at _least_ a semi-honest fashion. Malfoy was reaching for his pumpkin juice when Archimedes swooped down from the ceiling of the Great Hall carrying an official-looking letter from Malfoy's father.

Draco,

It has recently come to my attention that you have recently embroiled yourself in an untoward situation with a Muggle-born girl at school. If I am not mistaken, you have imperiled the family honor over the same girl whom you have complained bitterly about for the past six years. For your sake, I hope I am correct in assuming that it was she who threw herself at you, thus leaving the Malfoy reputation uncompromised. I attend your explanation with impatience.

Your Father,

L.

Malfoy smiled bitterly and incinerated his father's letter with a flick of his wand. He stroked Archimedes's head absently, offering the owl a piece of bacon. While he certainly wouldn't have chosen Hermione Granger for himself, he wasn't sure that kissing her would qualify as compromising the "Malfoy reputation". Malfoy sat at the table for a long time, gazing into space over his half-empty plate. When other students began to file into the room, he rose and strode from the room, brushing past Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were looking particularly murderous.

…………

Hermione entered the Great Hall moments after Harry and Ron. When she slid into her seat, she immediately noticed the scowls on their faces.

"You just missed Malfoy," Ron grumbled into his eggs.

"What a disappointment," Hermione said dryly, pouring herself a goblet of juice. "Are people still talking?"

"Everyone in Gryffindor knows what really happened by now," Harry told her. "Ginny is actually doing quite a bit of good." He looked up just in time to see the subject of conversation enter the room, chatting with Colin Creevey. To Hermione's amusement, colour rose in Harry's cheeks and he quickly looked back at his plate. Hermione raised a brow, but said nothing. Ron, true to character, hadn't been paying attention.

"When's the first Quidditch game?" Hermione inquired casually.

"Oh, er… Saturday. Hufflepuff will be playing Slytherin," Harry answered, taking an interest.

"When will you be playing them?" Hermione asked.

"Week after next," Harry answered.

"Great! You can avenge my virtue on the pitch then," Hermione joked. Harry grinned.

"I'd love to." He looked across the room to the Slytherin table. "They're actually not a great team this year," he commented. "A pity. They didn't have much actual talent before, but since all of their really big players graduated, the only good player left is Malfoy. Zabini's all right, I guess, but mostly they just sort of have to hope that Malfoy gets the Snitch."

Ron snorted. "And he won't if you have anything to say about it."

"And you'll stop them from scoring through the hoops," Hermione said. "You're really quite good, Ron. And being Quidditch Captain can't hurt either."

Ron went scarlet. "I'm not that good," he protested. "Harry's better."

"Not better," Hermione insisted. "Just different." Ron looked rather chuffed.

…………

It was several days until Malfoy and Hermione encountered each other again. The next time they did more than glance at each other was on Friday afternoon when their rounds were explained to them by Argus Filch, the school caretaker.

"You will be checking the fifth floor through the seventh floor, and the Astronomy Tower." He sneered unpleasantly at Hermione. "You ought to know all about that." Hermione smiled weakly. First year seemed so long ago…

"What do we do if we catch anyone?" Malfoy asked gruffly.

"Grab them by the neck and-"

"Argus," came a warning voice. It was Dumbledore. "I must ask you not to be overly harsh with any rule-breaking students that you find." He smiled at them over his glasses. "After all, it has happened to all of us at least once in our years here." Malfoy and Hermione shifted a bit where they stood. It certainly had. "You must, of course, take their names and report them to their Heads of Houses."

"If you'd let me hang them by their thumbs, they wouldn't do it again in a hurry," Filch said hopefully, looking at the Headmaster. Dumbledorebright eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Now Argus, you know that causes arthritis in later years. We'll stick to good, old-fashioned detentions, I believe."

The caretaker looked disappointed.

"What time do we report?" Hermione inquired pleasantly.

"Ten o' clock tomorrow night," Filch answered. "In my office. And be on time." He then excused himself as Mrs. Norris appeared at his ankle, obviously reporting an unfortunate student. Dumbledore smiled at Hermione and Malfoy, and then departed in another direction. The pair of students stood alone in the hallway for a moment.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Malfoy," Hermione said, not looking up. She walked away before Malfoy could answer.

…………

He really wished she wouldn't do that. Malfoy watched Hermione walk away again. He wished she'd actually look at him for once, instead of speaking to the floor or to his robes. And he wished she'd stick around so he could respond. Calling down the hall after her wasn't at all dignified, although it wasn't as if he had any reply.

Earlier in the week, Malfoy had written a vague letter to his father giving him a very brief explanation for the stories he'd heard. Lucius had written back that although Mudblood-baiting was a perfectly reasonable pastime, it might serve well to find a way that was less open to misinterpretation. Malfoy rolled his eyes. The only person who could possibly misinterpret a kiss bestowed on Hermione Granger was Lucius Malfoy himself. Pansy Parkinson would probably do a reasonable job of it though, Malfoy considered, although she still seemed convinced that it was only a matter of time until Malfoy would be on his knees begging for her hand.

Malfoy shuddered. Marriage had always been one of those things that were discussed distantly, as though it were far in the future. He supposed that after he graduated from Hogwarts he'd attend the same graduate school that his father had and then enter the Ministry of Magic. Then he supposed he'd make a political marriage with a pureblood girl somewhere and produce an heir. He'd lead a respectable Malfoy life in a powerful position, living comfortably until he died. The prospect, while not particularly exciting, was what he'd been born to do.

Malfoy returned to his room to prepare for Quidditch practice. They were playing Hufflepuff tomorrow, and unless he could catch the Snitch, they'd lose. As Team Captain, the least he could do was prepare them to fight.

…………

Hermione woke early the next morning and hurried to meet Harry and Ron before the Quidditch game. The Great Hall was bustling with students, excited about the game. Everyone but the Slytherin team seemed to be wearing yellow of some sort.

"Doesn't look like Slytherin has much support," Hermione remarked, looking around.

"Nope," Harry replied through his sausage. "They really made themselves unpopular. Even though they've lost the Cup for a couple of years now, everyone still likes to see them lose."

"I know I do," Ron growled. "The look on Ferret Head's face every time you get the stitch is worth every round of 'Weasley is our King' they've ever sung."

Hermione decided it was time to change the subject. "Tell me about Hufflepuff's strategy, Ron. How do they usually play?" And he was off. Not another word about Slytherin was spoken until the school mounted the Quidditch stands, excitement mounting as the players marched out onto the field. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle high into the air, starting Dean Thomas on his commentary next to Professor McGonagall.

"And it's Zabini with the Quaffle! He's blocked by Abbott, good one, and she's off down the pitch, she shoots…Score! Hufflepuff up, 10 points to zero. Zabini has the Quaffle again, he passes to Snervey and it's blocked by Finch-Fletchley. FOUL! You're supposed to hit the Bludger, Goyle, not the opposite team! Penalty to Hufflepuff."

Hufflepuff scored several more times, interrupted occasionally by fouls from the Slytherin side. Mostly it was Crabbe and Goyle, Hermione noticed, although one of the green-clad chasers did get a whistle for cobbing. Malfoy circled above the rest of the game, searching for the Snitch. Once he dove, causing the Hufflepuff chaser to follow, but it seemed he'd done it merely to relieve the boredom of a Snitch-less hour. By some miracle, Blaise managed to score twice before Malfoy caught the Snitch, barely avoiding a Bludger with some very fancy flying. The Slytherin stands erupted in cheers as the rest of the school growled and hissed. Hermione felt privately that Malfoy's catch had been extraordinary, but she knew better than to say that to Harry and Ron who were grumbling along with the rest of the Gryffindors.

After the game, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common Room and chatted with her friends, even playing two games of chess with Ron, only one of which he won. The other ended in a stalemate, which suited Hermione fine. After lunch, she talked with Neville about his new snapdragon.

"Professor Sprout told me that this one hadn't been doing well since we repotted them," Neville told her happily. "She said it perked up when I visited them again, so she let me have it. It nearly set the curtains alight by accident, but look how much it's grown!" Hermione saw that it had indeed grown much larger. It sat on the windowsill looking quite healthy, bobbing in Neville's direction whenever he moved. Hermione excused herself to her room an hour before dinner to complete some homework and spend some time studying. She met Harry and Ron outside the Great Hall before dinner, noting with satisfaction that few people even glanced her way as she walked through the corridors.

"Had a good time?" Ron asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. Ron grinned. They entered the Hall together and took their seats.

"You have rounds tonight, don't you?" Harry asked. He looked from Hermione across the room to Malfoy, who appeared enraptured by his juice goblet.

"Yes," Hermione sighed. "And I'm _not_ looking forward to it. I'd rather do some more Arithmancy."

"Even _I_ prefer homework to Malfoy," Ron said, making Harry snicker. "Divination, even."

"Divination is easy," Harry scoffed. "We make all of it up."

"How many times has she told you you'll die?" Hermione asked jokingly.

"About a dozen," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "Today it's because Mars is in the seventh house or something. There must be something I haven't got, because I don't get any of it."

"Or something Trelawney hasn't got," Ron said through his potatoes, "like the majority of her marbles."

Hermione nearly spat her pumpkin juice over Ginny, seated next to her brother. Lavender and Parvati had apparently overheard Ron's remark because they both turned and scowled in his direction. Ron ignored them.

When the meal was over, Hermione excused herself to her rooms for a nap. She woke just in time to dress properly and run a brush through her hair before letting herself out into the castle. Malfoy was already in Filch's office when she arrived. He leaned nonchalantly against the wall, looking more bored than he had a right to. Filch shuffled into the room a moment after Hermione. He looked smiled unpleasantly.

"You're in for an exciting night," Filch said. "You take the fourth through seventh floors. Walk them together. The Astronomy Tower door locks by itself and no charm in the world will get it open again, use the doorstop, or you'll be up there all night. Don't forget to check unused classrooms, and if you find anyone," he paused, looking almost cheerful, "You know what to do. Now get going!" Malfoy turned immediately and strode from the room. Hermione followed, hurrying to keep up.

Once they reached the fourth floor, Malfoy slowed down. He lazily tried the knob of the nearest door and poked his head inside. He shut the door again.

"We can go," he said, and headed for the next staircase.

"No we can't," Hermione said irritably. "We have the rest of these rooms to check." Malfoy rolled his eyes but finished checking the doors on the right side of the corridor while Hermione tried the left. They moved on to the fifth floor, repeating the procedure. Hermione watched as Malfoy tugged on the axe a suit of armour was holding and jumped when it slid aside, allowing Malfoy access to a dark space behind. Hermione watched, slightly astonished, as he disappeared inside, returning a moment later with a scrap of cloth in his hand.

"Someone was in here earlier," he remarked, holding up the piece of cloth.

"When did you find that room?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Third year," Malfoy answered. "I used to hide from Filch there."

"Oh," was all Hermione could say. They mounted the stairs to the next floor. The sixth floor produced no lurking students and, in truth, not even a stray spider. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why it mattered if students _were_ out of bed, as long as they stayed quiet. If they fell asleep in class it was their own fault and they should know better. She sighed to herself. Harry and Ron had definitely rubbed off on her. The seventh floor was silent and draughty. Hermione and Malfoy reached the Astronomy Tower entrance and propped open the door.

Feeling that she would only slow Malfoy down and aggravate him, Hermione gestured that he go first up the narrow staircase. To her surprise, he motioned that she should go. Shrugging, Hermione did as he indicated, moving faster than she expected. When she stepped out onto the observation floor, she stepped away from the door and looked up at the stars in wonderment. The sky was perfectly clear, leaving the stars completely unobscured. Then she heard the door close… and lock.

"Malfoy," she groaned, turning around. "Please tell me you put the doorstop in, and I just imagined that it closed."

Malfoy looked back at the door. "Shit," he said calmly and moved back to it, trying the handle. He pulled out his wand. "_Alohomora!_" Nothing happened. He stepped back from the door. "_Impedimenta!_" A burst of red-orange light shot from the tip of his wand, hit the door, and disappeared, leaving a faint scorch mark on the handle. "Wonderful."

Hermione turned away from the door and crossed the tower to look over the retaining wall, counting silently to ten as she did so. She took a deep breath, and determined to find a bright side in her being locked on the Astronomy Tower with Draco Malfoy.

"At least it isn't raining," she murmured.

"Shh! You'll jinx it," Malfoy told her seriously. "With my luck, it will rain."

Hermione fell silent, looking out across the grounds of Hogwarts. A soft breeze sent her hair back across here shoulders. Looking back up at the sky she said, "You flew really well this morning, Malfoy."

Malfoy said nothing for a moment. Then, "Thanks."

"I mean it. That catch was really brilliant. I can't do that."

"Hm," was all Malfoy said. He leaned over the wall a few feet away.

"I think it's too bad that your most of your good players graduated last year," Hermione continued.

"Do you have to keep talking?" Malfoy asked exasperatedly. Hermione glared at him and turned away.

So much for being friendly, she thought. She walked back across the tower and peered into one of the telescopes set up along the wall. Soon tired of that, she lay down in the middle of the floor and stared into the sky, feeling as if any moment it would swallow her up. The breeze blew across the stone again, catching her hair and sending a few strands across her face. Hermione brushed it away, continuing to stare at the stars. Again to her surprise, Malfoy crossed the tower to where she was and sat, arms folded over his legs.

"Do you fear flying?" he asked after a moment.

"No," Hermione answered after short consideration. "I fear falling more than flying."

They were silent again.

"I saw you flying earlier this morning, too," Hermione said boldly. "From my window."

"What did you think?" Malfoy inquired. He didn't look at her.

"I've never seen anything like it," Hermione said softly. "You were brilliant." They were silent again, for good this time. Hermione gazed into the sky until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. She relaxed into sleep, Malfoy still beside her, feeling oddly safe regardless of the fact that he was practically her sworn enemy.

…………

Malfoy heard Hermione's breathing slow and he shifted position smoothly, careful not to disturb her. He watched her sleeping, starlight glowing on her face. He watched her for what seemed like hours as she lay still, smiling gently in her slumber. A soft breeze blew once more across the tower, shifting her hair on the stone beneath her head. Malfoy rose gracefully and moved away from her, back across the tower. He pulled out his wand, and concentrating hard, conjured two blankets. He returned to the place where Hermione lay and spread one of the blankets gently across her body, then took the other blanket and lay down next to the wall opposite her.

He lay for a long time looking up at the sky and thinking about what had passed between them. She thought he was brilliant! A warm glow formed in the pit of his stomach. Soon he slept, a deep, dreamless sleep. .Malfoy didn't wake until morning, just as sunlight began to spill over the wall of the tower. He rose and stretched in one smooth motion, looking out over the wall at the brilliant sunrise. Hermione soon joined him at the wall.

"Thanks for the blanket," she said softly.

"You're welcome," Malfoy answered, still watching the sun. He remembered her words from the night before. _You were brilliant_. Suddenly, it wasn't the just the sun making him feel warm. He crossed the tower again, watching the dark sky fade away across the western treetops, replaced by a robin's egg blue. When he turned around, all he could see was Hermione where she stood on the other side of the tower. Her hair gleamed in the sunrise, looking like a sort of halo. _I shouldn't be thinking that_, he decided, and looked away again.

It was an hour or two before the door opened, revealing Filch, smirking nastily. "I hoped you'd got yourselves locked up here. That'll teach you to listen." He was followed by Harry and Ron, who stepped onto the Observation floor looking angry and worried. Both of them glared at Malfoy, who returned their looks coolly.

"Hermione!" Ron breathed, sounding relieved. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Ron. I'm fine," Hermione answered. "It took you long enough to get here."

"We knocked on your door for ages. We could hear Crookshanks scratching behind it and figured something must have happened."

"Anyway, we're here now," Harry said. "I bet you're starving."

"Just because you are…" Hermione rolled her eyes, following Ron and Harry down the steps. Malfoy followed several steps behind, brushing passed Filch, who leered in a horrible manner as he passed. _That man needs a toothbrush_, Malfoy thought as he sauntered easily down the stairs.

............

**A/N:** So what do you think of that? If Hermione fears falling, she's really going to hate the next few chapters... but Draco can be very persuasive. :0)

Thanks for all of the support! I really appreciate it.

As always, buckets full of thanks to my triple-fab betas, **Kerichi** and** Aindel S. Druida**. You're wonderful!

Have a lovely, lovely day!


	4. Chapter Four

Hardest Thing

Chapter Four

"I'm serious, Ron," Hermione said, becoming irritated. "Nothing happened! Malfoy and I were locked out on the Astronomy Tower all night. The most he did was conjure me a blanket after I'd gone to sleep."

"Right," Ron grumbled, "You said that already."

"Don't you believe me?" Hermione cried, dropping her toast back onto her plate.

"You have to admit, Hermione," Harry said, "It's a bit strange. When has he ever been anything but horrible to you? Especially after those incidents in the hallway?"

"He could have jumped me anytime he wanted to last night," Hermione practically shouted. "But he didn't! I'll take Veritaserum if that's what it takes to make you believe me. We even had a pleasant conversation." Harry and Ron fell silent and stared at her.

"You what?" asked Ron, not quite getting it.

"Had a pleasant conversation," Hermione answered. "About flying."

"That's fraternising with the enemy, that is," accused Ron. "Did you hear that, Harry?"

"I sure did," Harry answered, taking a long swallow from his pumpkin juice. "I suppose if you want to make nice with the Ferret…"

"What are you saying?" Ron roared. Several of the students around them looked over with interest.

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione ordered. "And Harry, I'm not 'making nice' with anyone. We were both exhausted last night. I'm sure he had no idea what he was doing. Either that or he's grown up, which is more than I can say for the two of you!" She stood up and stormed angrily from the Great Hall, headed for her room.

…………

Malfoy bumped into Hermione just outside the library later in the day. He wouldn't have been surprised to see a storm cloud hovering over head from the expression on her face.

"You look cheerful," he commented, holding the door open for her and following her inside. He dropped his voice to just above a whisper at Madam Pince's frown. "What's the occasion?"

"None of your business," Hermione responded, fairly stomping to the nearest shelf. Malfoy raised a delicate brow.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so," Hermione whispered fiercely.

"Where's the escort?" the blonde boy inquired politely, handing her the book she was reaching for. Hermione scowled at him.

"They don't follow me everywhere, you know."

"No, actually, I didn't know," answered Malfoy mildly. "Had a fight with them, have you?"

"How perceptive you are," Hermione said, flipping deliberately through the book she held.

"The book's upside down," Malfoy told her, hiding a smile.

"I can read it that way," Hermione retorted, but she corrected herself, a hint of colour tinting her cheeks.

"Why are you fighting?" Malfoy pressed, following Hermione down the narrow aisle.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Hermione hissed, shutting her book with a snap.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" Malfoy retorted, leaning against the shelf and blocking her path. Hermione glared at him and spun around. Malfoy followed as she walked away. Hermione marched straight out of the library, Hogwarts' Head Boy right behind her. Finally, Malfoy was able to corner her when she turned down a blank corridor by mistake.

"Let me by," Hermione demanded, trying to press past the taller boy. Malfoy smirked and held his ground.

"Not until you tell me why you're upset."

"I'm upset because you won't let me go," Hermione growled, still trying to get past.

"That's not good enough," Malfoy answered in a singsong sort of a voice. He was toying with her and Hermione knew it.

"Just leave me alone! They're mad because you were nice to me, all right?" Hermione said angrily, looking up at the Slytherin boy with flashing brown eyes. Malfoy felt slightly stunned, but he didn't let on.

"Why would they be mad because I was nice to you?" he asked, sneering a bit.

"They're just not used to it," Hermione sighed, taking a step back. She looked at him tiredly. "Will you let me by now, please?" Malfoy stepped aside with a mock bow. Hermione stormed away down the hallway.

Malfoy leaned contemplatively against the wall. So his being friendly towards Hermione Granger made his two least favourite people uncomfortable? On any other day, Malfoy would have jumped at the chance to continue this new angle of torment. However, using Hermione to get to them didn't seem quite fair. He'd had ample opportunity to irritate Hermione, more now that they lived next to each other and shared duties as Head students.

Oddly enough, Malfoy felt almost angry on her behalf. She could accept that he was more than one-sided, so why couldn't they? For once, Malfoy felt something akin to hatred towards the image he'd been taught to project. It denied him so much at times, gaining him so much at others. This was too confusing. Malfoy turned away from the wall and walked away down the corridor, hoping to find something to distract him.

…………

Hermione felt slightly nervous. She'd waited all day to say anything to Harry and Ron, and now it was dinnertime. She hoped fervently that neither one would cause a scene. Inside the Great Hall, Hermione sat down across from her friends.

"Hello," she said, flipping a napkin daintily into her lap. Harry and Ron looked at her.

"Er, hi," said Harry nervously. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry for being so horrible about Malfoy earlier. It's just weird, you know? It'll take a bit of getting used to, you guys being more civil to each other."

Ron reluctantly agreed. "I'm sorry, too, Hermione. It was, er, stupid of me."

"It's quite all right," Hermione said, pouring herself some juice. "Anything new today?" She listened patiently as Harry and Ron told her all about Quidditch practise and Ron's new chess technique. When they inquired about her day, Hermione was purposefully vague.

"I stopped by the library, had a bit of a chat, did some homework, the usual." When she looked up from her plate again, Ron had leaned over to say something to Neville, giving Hermione a clear view of Slytherin table. Malfoy looked across the room at her and slowly, deliberately, he winked. What in Merlin's name had he done that for? She felt her cheeks grow hot. Harry looked at her curiously.

"Something up?" he asked.

"No," Hermione answered quickly. "In fact, everything is quite, er, down." Ron had sat back up again by this point, rescuing Hermione from any more eye contact with the Slytherin boy across the room. Hermione finished her meal quickly and waited patiently for the school to be dismissed, keeping a steady stream of questions aimed at her friends.

When everyone was excused from the hall, Hermione followed Harry and Ron back to Gryffindor tower, grateful for the Sunday-night chatter that allowed her to listen rather than participate. At a suitable hour, Hermione begged off to her room, crying homework rather realistically. Instead of any chart of Arithmancy, however, Hermione was drawing a complete and utter blank on what to think about Malfoy. He seemed to be obnoxious and charming by turns, and it left her feeling remarkably confused. She wondered what would happen the next time they were alone together. Would they meet before next Saturday? Hermione had no way of knowing.

…………

Draco sat in class, wishing it would end so he could leave. He stared out the window, twirling his quill absentmindedly. Something fell onto his desk, a note. Draco picked it up and opened it, glancing around to see who had sent it. It should have been obvious. Pansy had drawn a border of little hearts had been drawn around the edge.

Dear Draco,

Meet me after class. I have a surprise for you.

Love,

Pansy

The blonde boy sighed. This was ridiculous. He turned the note over and wrote:

I don't take orders and I hate surprises.

He tossed it behind him at Pansy's desk. He heard her draw in her breath sharply as she read it, but this didn't seem to stop her from pressing the issue. Within minutes, the note was back on his desk.

Dear Draco,

Please_ meet me after class then._

Love,

Pansy

She wouldn't let it drop! Draco scrawled another line.

I'm busy.

He tossed the note back. The next time it landed on his desk, Draco didn't even bother to open it. He pulled out his wand and tapped it. The parchment curled into ashes which he then blew off his desk. Behind him, Pansy frowned. _Mother said that boys were difficult, but I didn't know she meant_ this_ difficult!_ She'd have to try again when he was in a better mood.

When class ended, Draco strode purposefully from the room and down the hall. If he was lucky, he might run into Hermione somewhere. The thought struck him as odd; he'd never considered running into her lucky before, but he wanted to find out whether or not she'd made up with Potty and the Weasel yet. Another hole punched in the strange-ticket. If he didn't know better, Draco would have called it a crush, but that couldn't be. He'd only been speaking with her for a couple of days. Besides, he'd always been told that people like her were beneath him, and his father would probably even object to their having to walk rounds together. Draco sighed as he continued down the corridor. Maybe he'd find her in the library.

…………

Hermione searched the shelves for something new to read, pausing every now and then to check a title or rearrange a couple of misplaced books. She jumped when Malfoy walked up behind her and brushed her shoulder with his fingers.

"Hey," he said, softly. "You make up with the entourage?"

"In a way," Hermione answered, continuing to examine the spines in front of her.

"Glad to hear it," Draco responded politely. He picked up a book and thumbed through it. "This sounds interesting. Ever read it?" Hermione glanced disparagingly at the gold-leaf cover.

"Yes," she answered. "Several times." Malfoy shrugged and put the book back, following her down the aisle.

"Is there a reason you're following me?" Hermione demanded, turning around to look her newest shadow in the eye.

"Who said anything about following you?" Malfoy asked. "I am simply looking for a book to read. Here, this looks interesting." He picked a book from the shelf at random.

"_Bored To Death: A Study of Flobberworms_," Hermione read from the cover. "I'm sure it's fascinating." Malfoy jammed the book back onto the shelf. "You did it wrong!" Hermione admonished. She reached past him to the book, setting it back in its proper place. Without another word, she turned and walked away, feeling terribly exasperated. To her chagrin, Malfoy followed. Hermione turned up one corridor and then another, taking staircase after staircase. Malfoy was behind her every step of the way. Thinking quickly, Hermione headed for the second floor girl's lavatory. Hermione heard Malfoy stop outside the door. He was waiting for her! Hermione hurried into one of the stalls and called softly into the u-bend.

"Myrtle?"

"Yes?" Myrtle asked from behind her. Hermione jumped and spun round.

"Oh, hello, Myrtle. You startled me. Listen, can I beg a favour?"

"What do you want?" Myrtle asked curiously.

"Well, there's this boy following me, see…"

…………

The ghost wouldn't leave him alone. She trailed after Malfoy, giggling and jabbering, following him up stairs and down corridors much the same way he'd followed Hermione, except noisier. He tried avoiding her by going into the boys' loo, but she followed him inside anyway.

"Can I have some privacy please?" he demanded.

"You haven't got anything I haven't seen before," Myrtle answered blithely.

"How do you know?" Malfoy asked with a sneer.

"You were a prefect," Myrtle answered with a grin. "I often frequent that particular bathroom…"

Malfoy's cheeks grew slightly pink. He turned on his heel and strode from the bathroom, ignoring the stares he got from passing students. Myrtle swooped after him, shooting through walls occasionally. When they reached the Head Boy's quarters, Malfoy turned to the translucent ghost and glared at her.

"My room is charmed to keep anyone I didn't invite into it out of it," he told her firmly. "Don't even bother to coming in after me." He opened the door with his wand and stepped inside, glad to be rid of the bothersome spirit. Needless to say, he was much less than thrilled when Myrtle came floating nonchalantly out of his bathroom.

"Where did you come from?" He wanted to know, getting up from his desk and facing her squarely. Myrtle smiled sweetly.

"Whoever charmed your room forgot to charm the plumbing," she said, "And I know plumbing pretty well. But don't worry. I just have to haunt you until you promise to leave Hermione alone."

"And why should I do that?" Malfoy inquired, sitting back down again. He picked up his quill and began to write quickly, trying to ignore Myrtle's laughter.

"Because otherwise _I_ won't leave _you_ alone!"

A large inkblot appeared on Malfoy's parchment. He pulled out his wand and erased it neatly. Sighing, he turned around in his seat and looked back at Myrtle, who now hovered over his bed.

"Fine. I'll leave Granger alone. You can go now."

"Do you mean it?" Myrtle asked.

"Yes," snarled Malfoy.

"Will you pinkie promise?" Myrtle asked, gliding over to him.

"NO!" Malfoy bellowed. "Just go!"

Myrtle smiled cheerfully and sank through the floor. The Slytherin boy scowled at the floor where she'd just disappeared. Maybe he shouldn't have tailed Hermione all over the school, but that was no reason to set a ghost on him. He sighed and returned to his homework. He'd think about her later.

…………

Hermione did a gleeful little dance when Myrtle found her in the Gryffindor common room. Myrtle looked very pleased with herself, and also pleased to see Harry who smiled rather wanly at her.

"Hello Harry," Myrtle giggled.

"You seem rather cheerful today, Myrtle," Harry said, cued into the conversation by Hermione, who smiled thankfully at him. Myrtle giggled again.

"I've been in better spirits since Filch cleaned the toilets again," Myrtle told Harry, who barely managed to hide his grimace.

"Did it work?" Hermione asked Myrtle hopefully.

"Yes!" Myrtle cried, hopping up and down above the floor. "He says he'll leave you alone now. He wouldn't pinkie promise, though."

Harry snorted. "Wonder why. Hermione, why was he following you if he's supposed to be nice now?" Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she turned to Myrtle.

"Thanks a lot, Myrtle. Do you want to stay for a little while?" Hermione indicated the common room.

"No," Myrtle shook her head. "I want to get back to my toilet, and maybe go visit the Head Boy's bathroom again." She giggled.

Hermione looked at Harry and made a face. "Well thanks again, Myrtle," she said, "Let me know if I can do anything for you." Myrtle nodded and with another smile at Harry, shot up through the ceiling and disappeared. Harry shivered.

"I've never seen her look that happy," he remarked.

"She still has a crush on you, you know," Hermione said. "It might be because I told her you'd be pleased if she helped me out."

"You didn't!" Harry groaned.

"You're right," Hermione said, "I didn't. Have you done your homework yet?"

"Er," said Harry uncomfortably. "No."

Hermione frowned at him.

"But I'm going to!" Harry exclaimed, getting up. "Right now, in fact. I think Ron is up in the boys' dorm, too. I'll go remind him about his Divination stuff, I think."

Hermione left Gryffindor Tower looking satisfied.

…………

True to his word, Malfoy steered clear of Hermione, and in fact, all of the Gryffindors until Saturday night when he and she met in Filch's office. Malfoy kept his eyes purposefully looking away from her until they were dismissed up to the fifth floor.

"You didn't have to set a ghost on me," Malfoy told her sulkily.

"It got me what I wanted," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "You're all for that aren't you?"

"Not when it comes to ghosts, Malfoy answered.

"You wouldn't leave me alone," Hermione told him, "So I did something about it."

Malfoy was silent until they reached the Astronomy Tower entrance.

"Are you going first?" he asked, standing aside. Hermione stopped and crossed her arms.

"No." she said firmly. Malfoy shrugged and mounted the staircase. Hermione couldn't help noticing how well his pants fit… When they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione was careful to put the doorstop in. Malfoy went straight over to the wall and leaned over it. Hermione walked across the tower to the opposite wall, looking out across the grounds. A few clouds drifted across the sky, curling around the moon. The grounds were still except for the slight swaying of the treetops in the distance.

Hermione looked back to the place where Malfoy had been a moment before only to find him gone. She peered around at the tower, searching for him with her eyes. She hadn't heard him move, but that didn't mean much. She went over to the door and listened, no footsteps. He hadn't gone down the stairs. Hermione went to the place where he'd last been and looked around.

"Malfoy?" she called.

"Yes?" said a voice. Hermione looked over the wall and gasped. Malfoy was seated comfortably on top of a gargoyle on the side of the tower.

"Come up from there," Hermione demanded. "You'll fall!"

"Have a little faith," Malfoy said calmly.

"I mean it, Malfoy."

"You'll have to give me a hand," Malfoy said, getting to his feet. Hermione bit her lip and extended her hand. Malfoy took it, sending shivers up her spine. Malfoy pretended to lose his balance, causing Hermione to tighten painfully her grip on his wrist.

"Ouch! Relax. I won't fall," Malfoy assured her. "Although I don't see why you're worrying. You weren't this worried about my welfare when you hit me third year. Or sent four kinds of curses at me in fourth year. Or-"

"I get it," Hermione grumbled. "I'm not sure why I'm worried, either. Maybe a good long fall would knock some sense into your head."

Malfoy now stood next to her and they glared at each other for a moment. An owl glided over the tower on its way to the owlery. Hermione looked up to watch it fly, still feeling quite angry with Malfoy for scaring her. She crossed the tower to watch the graceful bird as it continued its flight. When it finally flew out of sight around the castle, Hermione continued to stare after it, taking deep breaths of the cool night air, attempting to calm herself down.

…………

Hermione was completely lost in staring out across the grounds. Malfoy smirked as an idea formed in his mind. He slipped carefully across the tower, waiting until he saw her shoulders relax to come up behind her. Just as she let out another long, slow breath, Malfoy grabbed her. She screamed and spun round.

"Malfoy!" Her eyes flashed angrily at him. "Of all the stupid tricks! You are the most obnoxious person I have ever known. Abso-_lute-_ly the most irritating, exasperating, self-righteous, snotty little b-"

Her protests were cut short by Malfoy's lips covering her own.

"Shut up," he said, stepping back and holding her arms. Hermione glared daggers. Malfoy decided he was lucky that one needed a wand to do an Unforgivable curse.

"No I _won't_ shut up!" Hermione cried. "What did you do that for? How can you be so-"

She was cut short again by another kiss.

"I mean it," said Malfoy, looking her in the eye.

"Stop that!" Hermione said angrily. "I don't like it and it makes me furious. I refuse to-"

Malfoy kissed her again, enjoying every second of it. This time she responded slightly, leaning into him briefly then pulling away with a start.

"Don't do that!" she yelled. "I'll curse you into next Thursday, I swear it!" Malfoy stepped back and let her storm away across the tower. She opened a door and stepped inside.

"That's the supply cupboard, Granger," Malfoy called after her. Hermione stormed out again, looking murderous. She fumed away down the Astronomy stair case, leaving Malfoy alone on the tower. Malfoy chuckled to himself and followed.

............

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long... I had to rewrite bits of it because they sucked. :0) Next chapter begins with Hermione's POV. Thank you for all the support! **Nocturnal Sun**, I'm glad you like it. **Parody-of-an-angel**, wait and see! **Seraphina Faye**, how persuasive was that? Perhaps Hermione is beginning to see things his way... **Caren H.**, glad you enjoy it!

As always, thanks to my super-super betas, **Kerichi **and **Aindel S. Druida**. You're brill!

Have an abso-_lute_-ly fabulous day!


	5. Chapter Five

**Hardest Thing**

**Chapter Five**

Hermione sat at her window, hugging her knees to her chest. She was livid. The impertinent wretch! He'd scared her half to death twice and then he'd kissed her expertly three times. What made her even angrier was the fact that she'd enjoyed it! Hermione berated herself furiously for leaning into him like she had. She was positive that he'd noticed; the self-satisfied smirk on his face when he'd let go of her was enough to tell her that.

But why did it have to be _Malfoy_? The only boy at school who had always made fun of her mercilessly, insulting her at every opportunity, making a _bet_ about whether or not he could kiss her. _He certainly won _that_ one_, Hermione thought wretchedly. He didn't feel anything for her, she was sure. He was just using her to get what he wanted. Malfoy had always represented everything Hermione was dead-set against, except of course for that one night on the Astronomy Tower. Maybe that was when her true feelings had begun to surface, with that fateful phrase: _I think you're brilliant_.

Hermione swallowed miserably as tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. _No!_ she thought fiercely. _I won't cry over him. I've done that enough. This is just one more insult to forget about_. Still trying to convince herself of this, Hermione dressed for bed and climbed beneath her crimson sheets, pulling them firmly to her chin. She let sleep wash over her sometime later, praying for a dreamless sleep.

............

Malfoy took his time returning to his room. Running into Hermione probably wasn't a great idea. Come to think of it, kissing her probably wasn't too brilliant either. He wondered if she'd run and tell Potty and the Weasel. If they attacked him he could always dock Gryffindor a few points, but somehow, Malfoy almost felt he deserved it. After all, he _had_ started out by using her, and she had no reason to think that he hadn't kissed her for any reason other than the bet.

Maybe it was better for her to think that, the blonde boy mused. It would mean she'd hate him more than ever, and that way he'd never have to deal with the strange feeling that crept over him whenever he thought about her. It meant that no uncomfortable questions would be raised by his Slytherin classmates or his family. It meant that he wouldn't have to question himself or his beliefs. It would be much safer.

............

Hermione was careful to avoid Malfoy as much as possible the next day. She drew the curtains over her window lest she see him flying and she kept her eyes purposely averted from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall whenever she entered it. She nearly encountered him outside of the library in the early afternoon, but ducked into a classroom doorway until he'd turned a corner. The air was scented slightly with his cologne, Hermione noticed. She stood in front of the doors for a moment, trying to hold onto the scent and getting an odd look from a Ravenclaw boy who nearly ran her over as he left the library.

_He used you for a bet!_ Hermione reminded herself.

_Yes_, argued a small bit of her mind, _But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy his cologne. It's very nice cologne._

_Shut up!_ Hermione told herself. Madam Pince was peering at her. Hermione cheeks turned a delicate pink and she quickly surrounded herself with reference books for yet another paper. Two or three hours later, Hermione met Harry and Ron for a walk across the grounds to Hagrid's for tea. Fang greeted them at the door, barking loudly.

"Git _down_, Fang," Hagrid scolded, letting the students into his hut. "An' how've you three been?"

"Great," Harry answered.

"Fine," Hermione lied.

"Loads of homework," complained Ron. Hagrid chuckled.

"It'll do yeh good, Ron."

"I don't see why I can't just fly off like my brothers did," Ron grumbled. Hermione scowled.

"Yeh don' mean tha'," Hagrid said kindly. "Yeh like it 'ere, I know yeh do."

"Besides, Ron," Harry said smiling, "You can't abandon the team! We've a good chance for the cup this year."

Ron's scowl melted a bit at that, and he seemed to cheer up.

"Any more trouble from Malfoy?" Hagrid asked Hermione, a fierce glint coming into his eyes.

"No," Hermione lied smoothly. "He was following me the other day, buy I set Moaning Myrtle on him and he's left me alone since then."

"Good girl!" Hagrid said brightly, as he set cups out for them all and poured tea. "Rock cake?"

............

She was avoiding him, Malfoy could tell. He pretended not to see her turn around and head the other direction when they nearly met in the Charms corridor before dinner. _She must really be angry_, he thought, continuing down the hallway. Not that he could blame her, of course, but his heart sank all the same. It felt peculiar to be so... disappointed, and for no reason that he could particularly fathom, either. He had no reason to think about Hermione in the first place, the tall boy told himself firmly. No reason at all.

Malfoy groaned inwardly as Pansy Parkinson sidled over to him on a second floor staircase. She made what she must have thought was an appealing, sexy face, but it made her look rather like a drowning Fwooper. _Her voice is a bit reminiscent of a Fwooper, too_, Malfoy thought amusedly.

"Hey, Draco," Pansy said, pouting her lower lip.

"Not interested, Parkinson," Draco said firmly.

"Don't play hard-to-get," Pansy said, laying a hand on his arm. Malfoy pushed her away.

"I'm not playing games, Parkinson."

Pansy looked extremely confused.

"Then why won't you meet me anywhere or take me out?" Pansy asked dimly, looking upset.

"You're not my type," Malfoy answered her coldly. "Now, If you'll excuse me." He swept off down the corridor at the bottom of the staircase, hoping fervently the girl wouldn't follow him. Pansy stood on the staircase, staring after Malfoy. At first she felt a bit disturbed by his frankness, but the feeling passed.

_Huh_, she thought, turning around to go back up the stairs. _Bloody Ferret. I didn't like him that much anyway._ She paused. Then,_ That Zabini fellow, _ she mused. _He's quite fit..._ Pansy hurried off, feeling cheerier now that she had a new mission.

Later in the Great Hall, Malfoy swept past the Gryffindor table, making sure to elude any eye contact. He spoke to no one during the meal, although he was relieved to see Pansy Parkinson attaching herself to Blaise Zabini at the far end of the table. He left the room as quickly as possible, making a beeline for his room. To his dismay, Peeves the Poltergeist popped seemingly from nowhere just in front of him somewhere on the fourth floor. He produced several small balloons that appeared to be filled with something a lot like glue. Malfoy pulled out his wand and pointed it at Peeves.

"Get out of the way, Peeves," Malfoy ordered.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and hoisted one of the balloons, ready to heave it at Hogwarts' Head Boy.

"_Protego!_" Malfoy flicked his wand. The glue-filled balloon hit something invisible and solid in mid-air, sending it back at Peeves, who zoomed away, laughing madly. The balloon hit the floor some ways down the corridor and exploded, making a humongous, sticky mess. Malfoy disposed of it with a scouring charm and continued on his way. Hermione was just entering her room when he approached, and he stopped moving as she looked up, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she looked away again and stepped inside her room, closing the door in one smooth movement. Malfoy entered his own room then, and feeling rather dejected, he went to bed.

............

Hermione sat at her window again. How did he do that? Malfoy always seemed to turn up at awkward times. Moments ago in the hallway as she'd been opening the door, she'd heard footsteps and looked up, straight into Malfoy's silver eyes. His eyes had been dark and guarded, and with his hair falling in his face, he'd looked so.... _So what?_ Hermione thought, pulling her knees to her chest. _You despise him, remember?_

...

No matter how hard Hermione tried to stay put of Malfoy's way, they seemed to frequent the same places. It was frustrating. She said nothing to her friends and they were all completely ignorant, or so Hermione thought. On Saturday afternoon, however, Hermione was sitting with Luna Lovegood in the library, studying for Ancient Runes when Malfoy stalked in. She watched him from the corner of her eye, but whenever he looked her way, she was always conveniently buried in one or another of her charts. Luna watched all of this with interest. Once Malfoy left again, Luna cleared her throat. Hermione looked up.

"What happened between you two?" she asked in that strange voice of hers.

"Who are you talking about?" Hermione asked, playing dim.

"Malfoy," the misty-eyed girl answered.

"What makes you think something happened?" Hermione asked, looking back at her books.

"It's rather obvious," Luna said. "To me, anyway," she added a moment later.

"Some stuff happened on the Astronomy Tower. It's nothing, really."

"If you like him," Luna said with touch of amusement, "You ought to do something about it instead of just staring at him all the time."

"I didn't stare at him!" Hermione protested hotly. Luna just examined Hermione as though she were an interesting painting.

"You ought to figure out what you really want, Hermione," Luna said after studying her friend for several minutes. "I have to go now. I need to owl my father... I've been doing research for his article about the Horned Snogglebrute." She gathered her things slowly and drifted out of the library. Hermione sighed and stared blankly at the neat pieces of parchment. Maybe the younger girl was right. She gave up on studying and collected her belongings. Her journey back to her room was accompanied by anxious thought.

What exactly _did_ she want? She wanted to know what made Malfoy so attractive to her. She wanted to know why he couldn't kiss her because he wanted to and not because of some juvenile bet. She wanted to talk to Malfoy... _really_ talk to him and ask him the questions that surfaced in her mind every time she saw his face. Hermione was sitting in her favourite armchair reading a novel when an idea struck her. Her eyes lit and her cheeks turned slightly pink at whatever she was thinking. This was going to be good.

............

Malfoy met Hermione in Filch's office later that night. He departed for the fourth floor feeling rather apprehensive, but Hermione said nothing. She didn't even look at him for all that he could tell. As dull as patrolling round was, it was better than sitting alone in his room al night. When the pair of them reached the entrance to the Astronomy Tower, Hermione stepped aside and gestured that he go first. Malfoy did so, speaking not a word, and climbed the stairs two at a time. When he stepped onto the tower, the blonde boy walked straight to the wall and looked over, enjoying the feel of the cool night air against his skin. He heard Hermione step onto the tower and then, the unmistakable sound of the door shutting behind her. And locking.

............

Hermione stood in front of the Astronomy Tower door and waited as Malfoy turned slowly around. He stared at her for a moment before speaking.

"Granger," he said calmly, "Did you just let the door shut?"

"Yes," Hermione answered simply. She crossed the tower to stand next to the tall Slytherin boy.

"Why?" Malfoy asked coolly.

"Because we need to talk," Hermione responded, "And this is the only way to keep you where I want you long enough to do so."

"And what do we need to discuss so urgently?"

"First off, I want to know why you treat me like something lower than pond scum," Hermione said, meeting his eyes squarely.

"Because you're a Mudblood," Malfoy answered flatly.

"So what?"

"I'm a Pureblood."

"Why does that matter? Do you think that makes you better than I am?" Hermione wanted to know?

"Yes," Malfoy said, but he didn't sound as confident.

"And who gave you the right to judge that?" Hermione demanded, fist clenching.

Malfoy didn't have an answer.

"That's what I thought," Hermione said, smugly. "Now, how about that bet. what were the terms?"

"If I could kiss you, I'd get something from Blaise Zabini," Malfoy answered, looking away across the dark castle grounds.

"So why try twice?" Hermione inquired, keeping her eyes fixed on Malfoy's face.

"He tripled the result."

"Which was?"

"Originally, one Transylvanian opal. The second time, three."

"Where was he planning to get them?" Hermione pressed. Transylvanian opals were very powerful in magic work and also very hard to get.

"His father trafficks gems," Malfoy told her, still gazing over the wall.

"What were you going to use them for?" Hermione asked curiously.

"A spell." Malfoy's expression was entirely closed.

"Did you collect after last Saturday night?" Hermione wanted to know. She tensed in anticipation of his answer.

"No."

Hermione was admittedly surprised.

"Why not?" He probably hadn't had time, she thought. But Malfoy shrugged.

"I don't know."

Hermione examined the boy's profile, for a moment, then spoke.

"I don't believe you."

Malfoy turned sharply to look at her. "You don't." A statement.

"No."

"And why not?" Malfoy tried to sneer, but failed.

"Because I have more faith in you than that," Hermione answered softly, meeting his eyes. "I think you felt bad about it. I think you _wanted_ to kiss me." She was bluffing, of course, but it threw him off guard. He looked away.

"What do you know about it?"

Hermione blinked. Could she be _right_? No, it wasn't possible.

"Look, can't we be friends?" she wanted to know.

"Too many complications," Malfoy answered, a tad too quickly. Hermione thought for a second. This situation correlated rather nicely with a Muggle romance she'd read once. If she'd used her wand, it couldn't have happened more perfectly... the line from a song she'd heard once began to play in her mind.

_"...if you wanna know if he loves you so..."_ But she couldn't do that, could she? It would certainly be unlike her normal self, but she'd been longing to break free of her confining little box. Hermione smiled to herself before grasping Malfoy's shoulder firmly and turning him to face her with surprising strength. He looked at her again, but there wasn't any of the coldness she was used to seeing there. Her heart pounded in her chest and she could feel her cheeks getting pink. It was now or never.

Before she could loose her nerve, Hermione slid her hands around his neck and pulled his face towards hers. When she kissed him, he responded, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. A few moments passed and the need for air became too great an obstacle to overlook. The broke apart, Hermione looking impishly up into Malfoy's rather startled face.

"What did you do that for?" he growled, displaying a trace of his usual manner.

"I needed to test a theory," Hermione answered, brushing the front of her robes smooth.

"I hope your experiment was successful. Do you mind letting me in on the thing?" Malfoy asked, making an attempt at nonchalant-ness. Hermione smiled sweetly at him and walked back across the tower to the door. Pulling a key from her pocket, she fitted it into the lock and split-second later, the door swung open. Hermione pocketed the key and looked back at Malfoy who stared at her, stunned.

"Something wrong?" she inquired. Hermione kicked the doorstop into place and descended the stairs, leaving a very confused Head Boy behind.

............

She'd kissed him out of nowhere, and he had no clue as to why. This was too unnerving for poor Malfoy's taste. Worst of all, he'd been caught off of his careful guard and reacteded to the touch of her lips on his by pulling her even closer. There was no way she'd missed that, and he was sure she knew what it meant. He leaned against the wall with his head in his hands. This was a bit too much to take all at once. Did this mean she didn't hate him, or was she just toying with him? Was she even capable of toying, he wondered. What was she going to do next, and what was he going to do about it? As he stood there, leaning against the cold stone, an idea came to mind. He wasn't in Slytherin for nothing, after all... He just needed a bit of time.

............

**A/N:** Right... sorry it took so long! My computer kept deleting bits of it, the crabby old thing. Electronic devices can be so temperamental. Let me know if you find any typos, please! I hope you like Miss Granger's newfound feistiness... heh heh.

IMPORTANT What I meant by that line in the sorting hat song (which, by the way, _is_ in fact my own personal work) about not being prideful of your house means only that one should never set oneself above others because of the house they're in. Remember in the first book where everyone's saying they wouldn't want to be in Hufflepuff but Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad? Hermione says something about Gryffindor sounding "by far the best", and of course the Slytherins are all full of it. All the houses have equal strengths and equal faults. Remember that not _every_ Slytherin goes bad... just most of them. :0) I'm _so_ a Hufflepuff. But I look terrible in yellow.

Thanks for all the reviews, you guys. waves I appreciate the support.

As always, thanks to my betas, **Kerichi** and **Aindel S. Druida**. You rock!

I hope your day is strictly mint. :0)


	6. Chapter Six

**Hardest Thing**

**Chapter Six**

On Sunday morning, Malfoy waited around a corner until Hermione left her room, heading for the Gryffindor Common Room, before pulling out his wand and crossing the corridor to her door. Now what was the name of her cat? Crooked-something or other. He thought for a moment. The cat began to scratch at the door. Malfoy knew he'd seen it once at the Familiar care shop in Diagon Alley, and then again on the train, sitting in Hermione's lap, looking like an unfortunate accident with a brick wall. The blonde boy pressed his wand to the centre of the door and thought hard about the cat.

After a moment's hesitation, the door swung open, allowing Malfoy access to the Head Girl's rooms. He shot a spell down the hall to warn him should she approach and taking a deep breath, Malfoy stepped forward into Hermione's private sanctuary. He'd imagined something very like the image Hermione presented to the school, clean-cut and sophisticated, and he wasn't disappointed.

Sunlight spilled through a window across the room lighting the rich red carpet. A few dust motes sparkled in the air next to the towering, heavily-laden bookshelves against the wall. The two armchairs by the fireplace were low-backed and rounded. They looked quite comfortable, Malfoy thought, and was tempted to sit down, but decided against it. He continued to look around her room, pausing by her nightstand to examine the picture of her parents. For Muggles, they didn't look so bad, he decided after a moment (such a shameful thought!), and hastened to look elsewhere.

He turned around, examining the pictures on the walls and the things she had laying around the room. A spare set of robes was draped over the door of the wardrobe and he brushed it with his fingers, breathing the scent of Hermione's perfume. The bathroom was perfectly tidy, the towels hung perfectly and the rug tucked over the side of the tub. _I'm taking too long_, Malfoy thought and returned to the task at hand. All he had to do was wave his wand and write his favourite Gryffindor a clever little ransom note.

Hermione returned to her room feeling more cheerful than ever. Even Harry and Ron had noticed the extra spring in her step looking curiously at her after every other sentence. Luna Lovegood had given her a significant look in the third floor corridor when they passed each other, but said nothing to go with her conspiratorial expression. She hadn't seen Malfoy all morning, however, and wondered where he was. Not in Slytherin, if her guess was correct; Hermione had a feeling her actions the night before had thoroughly confused him. There was still no sign of him in front of their rooms. Hermione was tempted to knock on his door and run, but decided against it. She could always set Myrtle on him again....

When she opened the door, Hermione knew at once that something was odd. For one thing, there was a strangely familiar scent in the room, and the one person that came to mind was...

"Malfoy," Hermione breathed, looking at her empty bookshelves. Hermione set her bag down in a chair and went over to the shelves, examining them closely. She felt the air around them and tested the shelves themselves. Everything seemed to be in order except, of course, for the lack of heavy volumes. On her bed was a neat parchment scroll tied with a green silk ribbon. Hermione snatched it up and unfurled the scroll, reading quickly.

_Hello, Granger. Missing something? If you ever want to see your books again, you'll meet me on the fourth floor during dinner._

_D.M._

Hermione's glare nearly incinerated the parchment she held. This was obviously revenge for her actions the night before... she wondered what horrible thing he had planned for her.

At six o'clock that night, Hermione bid Harry and Ron good night, saying that she wasn't hungry and had homework to do. She returned briefly to her rooms, waiting until she no longer heard footsteps on the floors above or below her. The last thing she needed was to be seen hanging around with Malfoy while everyone else was away. Nervously, Hermione made her way to the fourth floor corridor, glancing around lest anyone see her by accident. Malfoy was leaning against the wall ahead of her, casually examining his fingernails in the flickering torchlight.

"Hello, Granger," he said, smirking. "I knew you'd come." He sounded very self-satisfied. Hermione glared.

"Give it up, Malfoy," she ordered. "I want my books back."

"Oh, they're not important," Malfoy said dismissively, dropping his hand and stepping away from the wall. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

Hermione followed the tall boy reluctantly, noting the extra spring in his step as he walked. Her pressing questions yielded nothing however, and she was left to wonder what the Slytherin had planned as they reached the Astronomy Tower door. Malfoy leapt up the stairs ahead of her, two at time. Hermione followed slowly, stepping onto the tower moments after he did. Upon seeing what Malfoy brandished at her from across the tower, Hermione took a step backwards, nearly toppling back down the stairs.

"Oh no," she said, stepping away from the door. "Oh no."

Malfoy grinned wickedly. "Come on, now. You said you weren't afraid of _flying_."

"I'll fall," Hermione said flatly.

"I'll be with you. You won't fall," Malfoy assured her.

Hermione shook her head.

"Do you want your books back, or not?" inquired Malfoy, waving one of the highly-polished broomsticks that he held in her direction.

Hermione scowled. "You wouldn't _dare_ hurt them!"

"Watch me," Malfoy responded smoothly. "Come over here and mount."

Hermione forced herself to do as he directed, uncomfortably aware of Malfoy's smirking figure beside her.

"Now kick off and head that way," Malfoy said, pointing back across the tower. "No one can see us from the Great Hall if we're over there."

Hermione gulped and pushed off. Her stomach immediately flipped over. She closed her eyes and urged the broom forwards.

"Up!" she heard Malfoy call and she jerked the nose of the broom towards the sky, eyes still clenched shut. The wind rushed in her ears as she flew, hair blowing out behind her. Hermione shivered.

"Look where you're going!"

Hermione opened her eyes to find that she'd veered to the right by accident and was headed straight for a gargoyle mounted on the side of the castle. Stifling a shriek, Hermione jerked the broom in another direction and shot away from the wall, missing it by inches. She felt herself begin to slip sideways off the broom, and without thinking, Hermione looked straight down at the ground as she righted herself. The height was dizzying. Her head spun as the closed her eyes and gripped the broom handle more tightly. She sensed Malfoy at her side.

"Having fun?" he called to her.

"No," Hermione responded, holding the broomstick still more tightly.

"Your knuckles are turning white," Malfoy observed with amusement.

Hermione opened one eye and saw that he was correct. She also saw that they were now hovering over the Whomping Willow and closed her eyes with a squeak.

"Come now, its not that bad," Malfoy said comfortingly. "Honest. Come this way." Hermione heard him soar away to their right. She followed, squinting as the air hit her eyes, causing them to water.

"Now, open you eyes and watch me," Malfoy ordered. "Can you do this?"

"No!" Hermione cried in horror as Malfoy executed a perfect loop-de-loop around her. "I'd rather keep my neck un-broken, if you please."

"Then don't fall," shrugged Malfoy, coming back to hover at her side. "It's easy, just the nose of the broom back hard. Nothing to it."

Hermione hesitated.

"On the other hand, I'm sure I could find an appropriate book-burning spell somewhere..."

That was all it took. Hermione jerked her broom backwards, letting out a terrified cry as she spun in the air. Her stomach found a resting place somewhere near her larynx, she was sure, and her heart now beat somewhere in the vicinity of her knees.

"That wasn't so bad," Malfoy said, smirking at her. "Better than experiments any day."

Hermione flushed. "Can we stop now?"

"Nope, one more thing," Malfoy informed her. "You're going to dive."

Hermione gasped. "I can't!"

"You can," Malfoy insisted. "I'll be with you the entire time. Side by side. First we'll fly up a few feet. Then just point your broomstick towards the ground. Level out about six feet above the ground, and _then_ we'll go back to the tower."

"How simple," Hermione said mouth dry.

"Ready?"

"No," Hermione squeaked.

"Excellent. Come on!" Malfoy shot up into the darkening sky, and Hermione had no choice but the follow. Then, taking a deep breath, she pointed her broom towards the ground. She stared, transfixed, as the ground raced closer and closer. Everything around her was just coloured blurs. She could see Malfoy out of the corner of her eye and could hear him shouting something vaguely over the rushing of wind in her ears. What was it?

"Pull up! Pull _up_!" shouted the Slytherin boy. Hermione realised what was happening just in time. She pulled the broom up, skimming the grass with her toes. A wave of relief swept over her and she relaxed just a moment too soon, slipping sideways off of her broom and onto the grass, rolling over and over, breath knocked from her lungs.

"Hermione!" she heard Malfoy cry. He landed on the ground next to her moments later. She felt a cool hand brush across her cheek. "Hermione," he said softly. She opened her eyes and grinned at him.

"What? Didn't think I could take a little fall?"

Hermione's pale face belied her carefree words. In truth, Malfoy found that she was gasping slightly for breath. The fall had obviously knocked the wind out of her. She sat up slowly and put a hand to her head. Malfoy leaned back on his heels and stood up, retrieving her broomstick from where it lay a few feet away.

"You're riding with me on the way back up there," he said in tones that allowed no room for argument. "And we're only flying because I don't want you walking anywhere."

"I can walk," Hermione protested. She got carefully to her feet and swayed, taking a step to regain her balance. Malfoy caught her with a steadying arm. Shifting Hermione's broomstick to his other hand, Malfoy pulled out his wand and banished his broomstick from where it rested on the ground. Still holding onto Hermione, the Slytherin boy mounted her broomstick and ordered her to get on behind him. Her arms tightened around his middle as he kicked off gently from the ground. He felt her cheek against his back through his robes as she relaxed against him. They touched down on the Astronomy Tower moments later.

"Ooh..." Hermione sighed, propping herself against the low stone wall.

"I'm sorry, Granger," Malfoy said quietly, busying himself with straightening his robes.

"You called me Hermione before," Hermione said from the wall, "and I'm not sorry. I needed that."

"Hermione," Malfoy repeated. Then, "You needed what, a collapsed lung?"

"No, a flying lesson. I want to do that again! Oh, not _now_!" she exclaimed in response to Malfoy's worried look.

"In that case, we'd better go," Malfoy said. He banished the broom he was holding and then slung an arm around Hermione's waist, guiding her down the narrow tower staircase. When they reached the seventh floor again, Hermione took an off-balance step away from him. Her stomach growled audibly and she blushed.

"Come back to my room," Malfoy offered. "I'll get us some dinner." Hermione agreed without further protest, leaning comfortably back into Malfoy's solid form. He was warmed by her trust in him, strange after he'd put her in such danger. He'd been so afraid when she hit the ground...

Before he knew it they were back at his room. Malfoy fished out his wand and pressed it to the door, allowing them entrance to his quarters. Hermione looked around with interest, sinking into a comfortable, low-backed armchair in emerald green. Her books were stacked neatly on and around a low table in front of another armchair. She smiled impishly at him.

"Glad to see they're all right," she joked. Malfoy watched her sigh and close her eyes, leaning back in the chair. She was still feeling the effects of her flying. He shifted guiltily and crossed the room to his fireplace where a few bright flames danced. Retrieving a handful of sparkling powder from a chalice on the mantle, Malfoy tossed it over the flames and stepped into the fireplace, disappearing with a 'whoosh.'

Moments later, he reappeared with a platter full of food fresh from the kitchens and the obliging house elves. Balancing the laden tray deftly on one hand, he flicked his wand at the table before Hermione and the books vanished without a sound. Hermione looked at him curiously.

"They're back in your room," he told her with a small smile, "and alphabetically arranged by author, just as you had them before."

Hermione grinned. "Thanks." She made to help him with the platter, but Malfoy motioned that she should stay in her seat.

"I think I can handle this." With yet another flick of his wand, the platter floated through the air and settled on the glass tabletop without as much as a clatter.

"Show off," sniffed Hermione. Malfoy handed her a plate and napkin, which she tucked daintily in her lap. He watched her dip the very tip of her finger into the sauce glistening on the vegetables in the bowl nearest her, bringing it to her lips. Her eyes met his as she tasted it and smiled around her fingertip. A shiver shot down his spine. Malfoy was suddenly made aware of his heartbeat, hard and loud in his ears.

"Who taught the elves to make Chinese?" Hermione wondered aloud. She served herself some of whatever the bowl contained and offered the spoon to Malfoy, who took it, eyes still glued to her. He ate absently, barely noticing what found its way onto his fork. Every so often, Hermione would glance up to meet his eyes, colour slightly and look away.

"What?" she asked once, laughingly. "Is there something on my face?" Malfoy merely shook his head, gazing at her as she tucked a stray piece of hair back over her ear, legs curled attractively beneath her. When they'd finished their meal, Malfoy gathered the dishes and set them on the hearth. When he turned around Hermione was watching him, a smile playing on her lips.

"Thank you for the lesson," she said seriously as he returned to his seat. "And for dinner, of course."

"You're welcome," Malfoy answered politely. "I'm terribly sorry you got hurt."

"That happens, sometimes, when you fall," Hermione said distantly, looking away out the window on the far side of the window. "I should go."

Malfoy stood to see her to her room. Hermione opened her door, and then turned to face him. Her brown eyes sparkled when they met his own.

"Good night, Hermione," Malfoy said softly.

"Good night," Hermione paused, and then smiled "Draco." She raised herself onto her toes and leaned forward to press her lips to his smooth cheek. Malfoy stood there for a moment after her door had shut, staring blankly after her. Some no-emotion job.

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long! School just started and I've been dealing with all of that, plus those annoying demands on my time such as homework, parents, and life. :0) This is probably my favourite chapter so far... I had to rewrite the chapter once because it was all wrong, and this is what happened.

Thanks for the continuing support! I love getting your feedback.

Big yell to my fabulous betas, **Kerichi **and **Aindel S. Druida**. Your hard work is so appreciated!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Hardest Thing**

**Chapter Seven**

It wasn't until after classes on Monday afternoon that Draco and Hermione ran into each other again. Hermione was slaving dutifully away on her Transfiguration homework when a shadow fell across her parchment. Setting her quill aside, Hermione pushed her hair back from her face and looked up into the familiar silver eyes of Draco Malfoy standing over her.

"Hey," he said, sounding friendly. Hermione was surprised to see him wearing something other than his usual smirk. She returned his small smile with an amiable one of her own.

"Hey," she replied. "Thanks again for my lesson, yesterday evening."

"Anytime. You're feeling okay?"

"I can take a two-foot fall, you know," Hermione said dryly. Draco shrugged.

"Listen," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "Seeing as how we're sort of...not enemies anymore, do you think you could..." he trailed off. Hermione grinned knowingly.

"What do you need help with?"

"Er... Arithmancy?" Draco looked rather ashamed. Hermione's eyes twinkled impishly.

"Come on up to my room. All my stuff is up there." She gathered her things together and stood up.

"I don't want to disturb you, though," Draco said quickly.

"I need a break anyway. Come on." She led the way out of the library and back up to their rooms.

"Why don't you open the door," she suggested with a smirk. "My hands are full." Draco obliged without a hint of shame. Hermione felt immediately comfortable in her rooms, the late afternoon sky bright enough to light the entire room well through the windows. She set her books down carefully on her desk and pulled her Arithmancy book from the shelf.

"So what exactly are you having trouble with?" Hermione wanted to know.

"The last chapter, actually," Draco admitted sheepishly.

"Don't feel bad," Hermione said soothingly. "It's complicated. Even I had trouble at first."

"What a comfort," grumbled Draco. Hermione grinned.

"So, do you understand this part?" They sat down across from each other over a low table similar to the one in Draco's room, poring carefully over the textbook. Before long, Draco was doing each problem perfectly as Hermione looked on, feeling rather chuffed.

"You're a great teacher, Hermione," Draco said with feeling, examining his last problem. Hermione felt a warm glow building in the pit of her stomach. That was the first compliment he'd ever paid her.

"We ought to do this more often," Hermione suggested. "You're a good student!" She smiled warmly. Draco looked up and met her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do that? I might get caught up in picking your brain and then we'll never get our homework done," he said, smirking.

Hermione chortled. "Not likely. I'm too one-track for derailment," she said confidently. She was silent for a moment, and then admitted, "I never thought I'd actually want to spend time with you."

"I fully reciprocate," Draco agreed, nodding. "In fact, I was highly opposed to the idea."

"But not anymore?"

"Well, you did just help me with my homework. Not that that will go any farther than this room."

"What, ashamed to be bested by a girl?" Hermione said teasingly.

"Not at all," Draco said amiably, "but to be bested by a _Gryffindor_, however..." He smirked when she hit his arm. "Why don't we go somewhere?" he offered.

"Go somewhere?" Hermione repeated blankly.

"Yeah. Come on." The boy stood up and headed for the door.

"What-?"

"Come on!" Draco doubled back and grabbed Hermione's arms, tugging her from her seat and out into the corridor. Once they reached the grounds of the castle, Draco looked back at Hermione's bewildered expression.

"Where are we going?" she wanted to know. Draco just laughed and led her around to the far side of the castle and down the path to Hogsmeade. Halfway down the path, Hermione forced him to slow down.

"We're just going to leave?" she demanded, pulling him around to face her. "We can't do that!"

"Why not?" Draco shrugged. He nearly lost it at Hermione's stunned expression.

"Don't we need permission?"

"Don't be such a Gryffindor," Draco smirked. "Of _course_ you don't need permission. Besides, they've never told us that we _can't_ go whenever we like," he said reasonably. He turned to keep going but Hermione held him back.

"They have too!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"Have they really?" Draco said mildly. "I must have been in the loo." Hermione glared. "Don't worry, we won't get in trouble," the boy assured her.

"But how do you know?" Hermione moaned.

"I'm a _Malfoy_," Draco informed her. "It'll be all right." He reached for her hand. "Trust me." Hermione took a deep breath and put her hand in his. Draco smiled encouragingly and drew her down the path. "Why do you worry so much?" he asked later as they arrived in the wizarding village.

"I don't know," Hermione answered without thinking.

"Ooh, somebody call the Daily Prophet!" Draco joked. "I'm serious though, Hermione. Do you ever do anything without weighing the possibility of every single consequence?"

"Yes," Hermione said after a moment of reflection.

"Like what?" Draco asked curiously.

"I bought a new quill for no reason last time I was in Dervish and Bangees," she answered with a completely straight face.

"Is that all?" Draco laughed.

"Pretty much," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Recklessness is very empowering," Draco informed her. "You ought to try it sometime."

"Maybe I will," Hermione said speculatively. "Why are we here, anyway?"

"Reckless decision. Spur-of-the-moment idea."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I wanted a butterbeer. Three Broomsticks all right?"

"Sure."

"Ladies first," Draco said, holding the door open for her.

"Thanks," Hermione smiled as she stepped inside the smoky pub.

"What can I get you?" the tall blond asked as they sat down at a table near the back of the room.

"A shot of Firewhisky, please," Hermione said primly. Draco arched a brow. "Joking! I'd like a butterbeer if you don't mind."

"Of course." He flagged Madam Rosmerta and ordered.

"How much do you do on impulse?" Hermione wanted to know as the barkeeper walked away.

Draco considered this. "Mostly unimportant things, or things that seem unimportant, like these little trips out. A new shirt sometimes, or a book. Sometimes things that turn out to be more important than I thought, flying lessons, for instance."

"Was that really important?"

"I think so."

"Good." Hermione caught his eyes and held them. "I'm glad we're friends, Draco." Madam Rosmerta returned with two steaming butterbeers and a roguish wink. Draco sipped his drink, revelling in the warmth that spread through his entire body.

"I'm glad, too," he said, and was not surprised to find that he meant it.

They returned to Hogwarts Castle without incident, and Hermione was relieved to find that none of the teachers had even noticed that the Head Boy and Girl were missing. She got the distinct impression that Draco was biting his tongue on the whole 'I told you so' issue, however, and told him so.

"You said it," he grinned, and she smacked him on the shoulder. The knowledge that she'd broken a rule and got away with it was a bit thrilling, she had to admit, but Hermione told herself firmly that it wouldn't be a regular thing. The last thing she could afford to do was be caught sneaking out of the castle, although perhaps sneaking wasn't the right word for it. After all, they'd marched off in plain sight of anyone who cared to look! The feeling must have shown on her face because Harry and Ron both looked curiously at her during dinner.

"Where've you been all day?" asked Harry from across the table.

"Oh, around," Hermione said airily, wrapping a piece of ham in a napkin for Crookshanks. "What did you two do?"

"Homework," Ron said glumly, taking a bite of potato.

"That's a first," Hermione said cheerfully. "Were you on a broomstick at the time?"

"No," growled the freckled boy. "We were in the bloody common room. Harry wouldn't let it go."

"Wouldn't he, now," Hermione said, looking impressed.

"He seemed to think that not failing Potions is more important than practising Moran's Dive."

"Can't say I disagree... what's Moron's Dive?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Mor-AN," Ron shouted, drawing stares. "Not mor-ON! Honestly." He rolled his eyes. "It's just like the Wronski Feint, except up instead of down."

Hermione nodded. "If you say so. Did you get your Potions essay finished?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "And transfiguration."

"Good for you," Hermione congratulated them. Ron grunted.

"I take it that whatever you did made you happy?" her dark-haired friend asked.

"Mm-hmm," Hermione replied, taking a sip from her goblet. "You can tell?"

"You're positively glowing," Harry informed her. Hermione smiled but said nothing. This was one secret she was going to keep.

After dinner, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common room with Harry and Ron, pausing to speak with Ginny and to admire Neville's newest vine. After checking her friends' essays, Hermione excused herself to her own room and slipped inside. The scent of Draco's cologne still lingered inside and she breathed deeply, enjoying it. With a dreamy smile spread across her face, Hermione put the ham from dinner in Crookshanks's dish. She crossed the room to her window and opened it, sitting comfortably on the window seat and looking out into the night. She couldn't have planned a more perfect day.

After classes on Tuesday, Harry and Ron departed for Quidditch practise. Hermione declined their invitation to watch, stating that she ought to study for her Arithmancy test the next day. To her surprise, Draco Malfoy was already in her room when she returned to it, frowning at a bit of parchment in his hand.

"Well, hello there," Hermione said, half-amused.

"Good afternoon," Draco said glumly.

"What's up?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I don't think I can memorise all of this before tomorrow," Draco told her seriously. "I mean it!"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. "Of course you can!" She took the parchment from his hand and examined it. "Here. Try this." She picked up a spare quill and dipped it in ink. "Rearrange the diagrams like this.... and they look like a face. Practise drawing them like that and you'll be sure to get them straight." Draco was looking at her with something quite akin to admiration.

"Do you always do that?" he asked with a smile.

"Do what?"

"Come up with little drawings and things to memorise things like that."

"Well, yes," Hermione answered, colour tinting her cheeks.

"Brilliant," Draco told her. "I never would have thought about arranging them that way."

"It's not all that," she protested. "My dad taught me to do things like that years ago."

"Did he teach you much?" Draco asked with interest.

"Loads," Hermione answered with a grin. "He's the one who taught me how to read, and how to write. He taught me tricks for remembering my times tables and then for things like science and all. Funny little mnemonics and rhymes, techniques for arranging word problems and diagrams... It was my mum who taught me stories, though, about everything. Stars and mythology and things." She looked up to find Draco looking rather wistfully at her. "I'm talking too much. Go on and try the diagrams again," Hermione ordered the boy, handing him her quill. The boy sighed and took the pen, gracefully settling himself in a chair and doing as she instructed. Hermione bent over his shoulder to watch, inhaling deeply his unique scent. With a flourish, Draco finished the diagram and turned his head to look at her, their faces now inches apart. Hermione stood up quickly and smoothed the front of her robes.

"Very good," she said, suddenly businesslike. "Now do it again." In all, Hermione made the Slytherin do the entire thing three more times until she was satisfied. "You've got it now, I'm sure of it," Hermione said confidently as she saw him to the door. Draco smiled ruefully.

"I hope so," he said, and bid her good afternoon. Hermione leaned back against the door and shut her eyes. She so wanted to believe that he'd changed! She didn't want to feel guilty for spending afternoons with Draco. She wished that Harry and Ron wouldn't look at her so strangely when she walked into a room with a smile. Was it so strange for her to be happy? She didn't probe into _their_ lives. Hermione sighed. Inwardly, she knew that they only cared about her, but sometimes it seemed that they cared too much about the wrong things.

In bed that night, Hermione gazed up at the scarlet hanging on her bed, thinking. She'd taken care of all her homework and attended the Prefects meeting. She'd spent some quality time with Crookshanks and she'd had a laugh or two with Harry and Ron. She'd written her parents the Friday before and she'd finished all her research for the next DA meeting, but something still tickled the back of her mind. Something was missing. Something big, and she couldn't place it. Hermione turned over and pulled the blankets up around her chin. Her room felt suddenly too big, too empty. Closing her eyes, Hermione concentrated on sleep until finally consciousness melted away, abandoning her to fitful sleep and confused, noisy dreams. In the morning, she felt tired and cranky, and the Head Girl wished fervently that she could simply roll over and doze off again.

Duty called, however, and Hermione being someone who never ignored the furtive cry of responsibility, rolled reluctantly out of bed and into her bathroom. One steamy shower later, Hermione felt moderately better and tugged on a clean set of robes. Plucking her Arithmancy textbook from the table where she'd left it, Hermione trotted down to a quiet breakfast for some last-minute (and unnecessary, she decided later) studying. Harry and Ron turned up late as usual, rolling their eyes in disgust when they caught sight of her empty plate and open book.

"You never stop, do you?" Ron said, half admiring. Hermione did not deign to respond, but turned another page of the textbook.

After Arithmancy, Hermione hurried off to the only class she had with Harry and Ron that day, which happened to be double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. Ron complained bitterly about their Divination homework but cheered up considerably after awing Justin Finch-Fletchley with stories about ear-biting telephones that his father had encountered. Harry then bemoaned the fact that he'd be seeing Professor Snape that evening for continued Occlumency lessons.

"Tomorrow's DA, though," he remarked, and smiled thoughtfully.

_Easy to please, those two_, Hermione thought, and finished emptying her Lumproot pod.

With Ron occupied with homework and Harry at Occlumency lessons, Hermione felt she had little to do that night. She was just contemplating an early turn-in when a knock came at the door. Hermione answered it to find Draco leaning patiently on the doorframe, examining his long fingers.

"Hello," the Head Girl greeted him warmly. "I haven't seen you since Arithmancy this morning. How did the test go?"

"Perfectly," Draco answered, "But it wouldn't have if it weren't for you."

"You'd have figured it out," Hermione assured him.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Can I come in?"

"Um, sure," Hermione decided, stepping aside. The blond boy slipped inside her rooms and settled himself in 'his' chair. "Anything in particular you need?" Hermione wanted to know. The Slytherin shook his head.

"No," he answered, watching the fire. "Just wanted to be in here."

Now it was Hermione who shrugged. "Okay."

"Actually," Draco said after a moment. "Wait here." He stood up and Hermione heard him enter his own room. She was just beginning to wonder f he was coming back when something tapped on the window by the bookshelf. Hermione climbed onto the window seat and opened the window to find Draco's robed form hovering outside on his broomstick.

"Get on," he told her.

"You're mad," Hermione told him. "It won't hold us both."

"It will too," Draco argued. "Get on."

"Why should I?" Hermione demanded.

"Because I said so," the confident boy said firmly.

"It's a school night," she protested.

"So what?" the boy replied carelessly.

"You're an arse," Hermione informed him.

"Quite possibly," Draco agreed. "Get on."

He wasn't giving up. Setting the worst of her misgivings aside, Hermione stepped gingerly out onto the ledge beyond her window. Taking Draco's hand, Hermione swung herself onto the broom behind him, biting her lip hard in the process. Once she was firmly seated, Draco guided her hands about his waist and leaned forward, sending them out into the night sky. Hermione looked up into the sky. It seemed to encompass her entire body and that of the solid boy in front of her. She leaned into his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through her robes and the wind that brushed her hair back from her face. Looking back, Hermione saw Hogwarts castle falling away, becoming a mass of golden-lit windows and mismatched turrets. Draco flew them out over the road to Hogsmeade, then over the village until it, too had faded into the silent darkness around them.

What seemed like hours later, Hermione felt Draco turn the broom around and begin flying back to the castle. Feeling as though she could have stayed there forever. Hermione gazed up at the stars moving slowly past. It was strange, she decided, how quickly the ground seemed to flit past, yet the stars moved nearly not at all. A few wisps of silvery cloud here and there only made the night seem more magical, and Hermione sighed with regret when they finally reached her window once more. With expert handling, Draco guided the broomstick through the frame and into the centre of her room.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked with a yawn as she dismounted the gleaming broomstick.

"I don't know," Draco answered helpfully. "Late."

"Thank you for the ride," Hermione said sincerely, looking up into his silver-grey eyes.

"Anytime," the boy answered with a slow smile. "Get some rest, all right?"

Hermione nodded sleepily and let her head fall to the side. She reached up with one finger and brushed a stray hair from Draco's face. "Good night."

"Good night." He saw himself out, looking back once to wave before he shut the door. Hermione climbed into bed, exhausted, and had no time to think before sleep was upon her. Her dreams were sweet.

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Sorry it took so very long for this update. Chapter Eight'll be along soon, relatively speaking, and my other current fics will also be updated shortly. Was this chapter too long? Just wondering. Thanks to **Keith UrbanFan**, **Rai Dorian**, **Evan M.**, **Shaney of Goldenlake **(like Raoul of Goldenlake?), **Caren H.**, **c-dog**, and **mionedracoshipper **for reviewing, and of course, thanks to **darkerthanlight** and **Grand Illusion** for their continued love and support. Don't I sound like I'm accepting an award? :0) **Aindel S Druida **and **Kerichi**, thanks for editing! You guys are brilliant!


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